Red vs Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles Part 4
by BentleyGirl
Summary: The fourth part of my novelization of the first five series. Please read first three parts to understand this part. Also please read and review. UPDATED! Rated T for swearing
1. Familiar Surroundings

**Hello again, readers and welcome to Part Four of my five-part novelization of Red vs. Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles.**

**First off, I must remind you all that I do not own the series or Halo; they belong to Rooster Teeth and Bungie respectively.**

**Finally for later chapters, here's a quick note:**

'Normal text' – English

(Normal text) – Translation for Spanish

'**Bold text**' – O'Malley's speech

**So, here we go again, folks!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Familiar Surroundings

On a distant planet several light-years from Earth, there is a small box canyon known as Blood Gulch. For hundreds of years, stories had been told of great battles that took place there, between two armies whose species and reasons for fighting have been lost over the years. Nobody knows the truth of these battles, but they do know that one day, for some long-forgotten reason, the two armies disappeared from sight and peace reigned over the canyon. But now, over eight hundred years later, the silence of Blood Gulch was about to be interrupted…

"Noooooooooooooooooooo! Nohohohohoooooooohohoooooooo oo!"

Those agonized screams were coming from an orange-armored Spartan-II super-soldier, standing on the cliffs on one side of the canyon. Below him, three other Spartan-IIs, colored red, maroon and Pepto-Bismol pink respectively, stood and watched their comrade in growing concern.

"Is he ever gonna stop screaming?" Private Donut muttered crossly. "He's been up there for hours."

Their commanding officer known only as Sarge nodded and turned to the private he was most fond of. "Simmons, shut him up."

Private Simmons nodded and stepped up towards the cliff. "Hey Grif, shut the fuck up!" he yelled. "Get down here and help us check out the base!"

"No!" Private Grif moaned. "Nooo! Noooohohohohooooooo!"

Simmons sighed and turned to the others. "I don't think he's even listening to us."

"Noooooooo, actually that time I was answering your question, noooooooo!" Grif replied.

Sarge let out a groan. "Go up there and get him, Simmons."

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooo-"

Donut glanced up as Grif started his longest scream. "If he keeps screaming like that, he's gonna pass out and fall off the cliff."

"Cancel that order, Simmons!" Sarge commanded.

"-oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo -"

"Donut, get me a sniper rifle," Sarge sighed.

"Yes sir," Donut replied eagerly and he ran off towards the Warthog Mk 2.

"-oooooooooo!"

Meanwhile, in a distant complex by the beach, three other Spartan-IIs, colored teal, regulation blue and black respectively, were engaged in conversation.

"And he says 'Did I read it? I already _ruined_ it!'" Private Tucker finished his story while he played with his energy sword.

"That's disgusting," Freelancer Tex scowled.

Private Caboose tilted his helmeted head in confusion. "I don't get it."

Just then, a white ghostly figure appeared behind them, bent double as he panted with fear and exhaustion. "What… the fuck… was that?"

"Hey, Church!" Caboose called out.

"Hey," Tucker muttered.

"Huh?" Tex added.

The ghostly leader of the Blues stared at his teammates in surprise. "Isn't anyone gonna ask me, 'What happened to your body, Church?'"

"What happened to your body, Church?" Tex and Tucker muttered in simultaneous boredom.

"What happened to some... body, Church?" Caboose added.

"Hell if I know," Church replied with a shrug. "All I know is, I was sitting there talking to Gary and-"

"The bomb?" Tex asked.

"No that's Andy," Church corrected. "Gary is the computer."

Tex gave a dismissive shrug. "Meh, I don't even remember most of your names half the time."

"I know my name!" Caboose cried out. "You can ask me if you forget."

"Hey, can we please focus on me?" Church yelled.

"By the way, he's Church."

"Yes, thank you Caboose, she knows."

"He is the mean one."

"_Thank you,_ Caboose!"

"See, he is mad," Caboose explained. "Now he'll just _stare at me until I stop talking_, then when he thinks I am done talking then he will start talking again."

Church stared at him for a while then turned to the others. "Okay, I was talking to Gary and-"

"Told you so."

"God dammit!"

"Classic Church," Caboose chuckled.

"I wonder if a ghost can have an aneurysm," Tucker thought aloud to himself.

"_Anyway,_" Church shouted. "I was talking to Gary about the Great Destroyer, who at the time we thought was Tex…"

_Flashback_

_As Church neared the generator room, he could hear Gary still in a panic. "THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED, THE END IS NEAR! THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED, THE END IS NEAR!"_

"_Oh, come on, Gary, Gary, Gary, stop, stop, stop!" Church yelled, running up to the screen. "Hey listen, if Tex is not the Destroyer from the prophecy, then who is?"_

_At once, the computer face fell silent and faded back to blue._

"And _that's_ when I turned around, and I saw…"

_Church slowly turned around and he saw…_

"_Saw what?" Caboose asked. "Saw O'Malley?"_

"_What the…?" Church cried out. "Caboose, get outta the story, man! No, it wasn't O'Malley."_

"_What was it, a helicopter?"_

"_Stop interrupting and I'll tell you," Church sighed._

"_Yeah, Caboose, shut up," Tucker cut in._

"_Hey, Tucker, you're interrupting too," Church snapped. "Everybody just get outta here!"_

"_Me? I'm just trying to punch up the story," Tucker replied. "Check this out…"_

_He pointed to where Tex was standing on a wall and threw his voice through her. "Hi everybody, I'm super horny from all the robot killing. Hey is it hot in here? Who wants to help me out of this heavy armor, this breastplate is _so_ itchy."_

_End Flashback before this gets too weird_

"Bow chicka bow- whoa…" Tucker's voice trailed off as he spotted Tex pointing her assault rifle at his head. "Story's over."

"You're a pig," Tex growled.

"I didn't even get to the part where the sailors show up," Tucker muttered ruefully.

Tex then turned to Church. "Just tell us, what did you see?"

"Um," Church struggled to recall. "It was a really big… thing."

"That's your story?" Tex spluttered. "You saw a big thing."

"My story had a big thing in it too," Tucker moaned. "You just didn't give it time to develop."

"Well, I didn't really get a clear look at it," Church argued.

"At Tucker's big thing?" Caboose asked.

"No, dumbass," Church retorted. "At the big thing in the base that attacked me… All I know is that it was slimy and it had lots of teeth."

"_Kinky_," Tucker grinned.

"Seriously dude, cut the shit," Church snapped. "We've got a situation on our hands."

"Well, how did you fight it off?" Tex asked.

"Fight it off? You must have me confused with someone who's brave. I got the hell outta there."

"You're telling me you left your body behind?"

"I had to get outta there fast. That body was just dead weight."

"I know the feeling," Caboose muttered.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Church scowled, folding his arms.

Tucker then burst out laughing. "Hahahaha, some slimy toothed monster scared the crap outta Church! Hahaha!"

"He didn't scare the crap outta him," Tex corrected. "He scared the _soul_ outta him."

"Oh, it's Church, what's the difference?" Tucker giggled. "His soul is _made_ outta crap. Stupid crap for soul…"

Church glowered at Tucker then turned towards the base. "For all I know, he's in there _chewin'_ on my body right now."

Tex raised her assault rifle. "Well then, let's go get this big thing of yours!"

"Bow chicka bow wow!" Tucker added.

"Oh shut up," Tex scowled.

"Shut up, Tucker," Church agreed.

But Tucker was now in the groove. "Did somebody call for a really hairy plumber? _Bow chicka bow wow!_"

"Tucker, shut up!"

"I came here to lay some pipe. Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

"Tucker!"

"So I hear you got sisters. Bow-chicka- who're twins! –Wow-wow!"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, are you a model or famous actress? Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

"Shut _up!_"

"Bow chickachicka bow wow chickachicka bow wow chickachikachikachika bow wow!"

"SHUT UP!"

* * *

**And there you have it. The Reds are back in Blood Gulch and the Blues have trouble in their hands.**


	2. Hunting Time

**Here's Episode 59 which continues from where the last episode left off.**

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Chapter 2: Hunting Time

On the cliffs of Blood Gulch, Grif was still moaning like a walrus with toothache. "Noooooooo-OW!" he suddenly yelped as a sniper round grazed his arm. Then he ducked aside as more rounds flew around him. "No! No, no, nohoho!"

"That was close," Sarge called.

"Thank you, Sir," Simmons replied.

Having grown tired of Grif's constant moaning, the others had each grabbed a sniper rifle and were taking it in turns to shoot at their teammate. Now Donut raised his sniper up and fired a round at Grif.

"Donut, you're going outta turn," Sarge berated.

"I thought _I_ went after Simmons," Donut replied.

"No, we go in line." Sarge started pointing to himself and the others in turn. "It goes you then me then Simmons then back down to me then you then me then me then Simmons then me then me then Simmons, me, me, Simmons, you, Simmons, me, me, me, Simmons, you… me then me again. It makes perfect sense."

"But doesn't that mean you go _twice_ as much, or…" Simmons did a quick count. "…_Ten_ times as much?"

Sarge ignored him as he fired his sniper at Grif. "OW!"

"This is the best game since Grifball," Sarge chuckled.

"I'm not coming down!" Grif yelled.

"Hey, Grif," Sarge called up. "Move back and forth like one of those ducks at the carnival!"

Sarge fired again and Grif ducked down to avoid the bullet. "No, don't duck," Sarge shouted. "That makes you harder to hit. _Act_ like a duck!"

"Wait a minute, that was my turn," Simmons protested.

"This is the Lightning Round," Sarge explained.

Knowing the answer already, Simmons asked, "Who's in the Lightning Round?"

"Me," Sarge replied as he reloaded.

"Alright, fuck this, I'm coming down," Grif shouted and he turned to climb off the cliff, just as Sarge fired his gun again, hitting him in the bottom. "OW! I said I'm coming down!"

"Ha-ha, buzzer beater!" Sarge cheered. "Take that, you stupid duck."

Meanwhile, at the complex, the Blues and Tex stood by the entrance to the base, waiting tensely.

"We haven't seen that alien thing come out," Tucker muttered, sword at the ready. "So he's probably still hiding in there."

"Or _eating Church_," Caboose added.

"Alright then," Tex hissed, raising her sniper rifle. "Let's roll."

"Okay," Church nodded. "Here we go…"

After a few more seconds of total inertia, Tucker turned to his leader. "Uh, we're not moving."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Church cleared his throat. "Here we go."

But still they didn't budge.

"We're still not moving," Tucker said.

"Does talking count as moving?" Caboose asked.

"Alright, screw it," Tex cried, stepping forward. "You guys get behind me, and stay tight."

"Bow-chicka-bow-wow," Tucker quickly muttered.

But Tex heard that. "Never mind, Tucker's in front."

"Eh, it was worth it," Tucker sighed.

Back at Blood Gulch, Sarge had driven the Warthog Mk 2 into the canyon while Donut followed behind on the hover-scooter and now the Reds were standing behind a rock just outside one of the Bases.

"Alright men," Sarge hissed. "Stay out of sight. We have to be prepared for anything."

"Uh, why are we hiding from our own Base?" Grif asked.

"Because we have no idea what's inside," Sarge replied.

"Right," Simmons agreed. "Anything could have occupied the Base after we jumped into the future."

"Oh my God," Donut gasped. "What if _we're_ in there?"

"Yeah- no wait," Grif stumbled. "Aren't we out here?"

"I mean past versions of ourselves," Donut replied. "We could go in there and meet ourselves! Oh man, we'd be best friends; we'd have so much in common. Finally, someone who shares the pain."

"Donut, that's not how time travel works," Simmons sighed. "We don't leave copies of ourselves behind, and even if we did they'd all be eight hundred years old. They'd all be dead by now."

"Speak for yourself," Donut retorted. "I could live to be eight hundred. I'm on this awesome diet."

"You still doing that high-fat low-fibre liquid diet where you drink nothing but bacon grease?" Sarge asked.

"Nah, that was just a fad."

"What's the new one?"

"I only eat foods that begin with vowels."

"That sounds really hard," Simmons muttered. "What did you have for breakfast?"

"Eggs and Oreos," Donut replied. "And for lunch, I'm having asparagus… and Oreos."

"Holy crap, I've been on that diet for years!" Grif cried out. "I had no idea I was so healthy! I even cut out all the eggs, and I don't even _know_ what asparagus is."

"Alright men, stop your chatterboxing," Sarge snapped. "We've got to keep our eyes open for any sign of enemy activity."

Just then, a slightly rusted Scorpion-Class tank drove right between them and the Red Base. "I can't have you not paying attention," Sarge continued without noticing.

But Grif, Simmons and Donut just watched as the tank rolled past their rock and out into the canyon. "You have to be alert," Sarge kept saying. "Constant vigilance… composed… attentive!"

At that, the privates turned to face their leader who smiled. "See? That's much better."

Back at the complex, Tucker stepped into the passage as quiet as a mouse, pistol at the ready. When he was certain that all was clear, he signaled Church to follow him.

"Hey, why didn't you bring that glowing thing?" Church hissed as he entered.

"No way," Tucker whispered back. "I'd rather have a gun."

"_I've_ got a gun," Church said, holding up his ghostly assault rifle.

"What are you gonna do, shoot it with ghost bullets?" Tucker scoffed.

"Okay, yeah, that's a good point," Church conceded.

Tucker nodded with a chuckle. "Hi, I'm Casper, the friendly bullet."

"See anything?" Tex called out.

"Nope," Tucker shouted back.

"You know, Andy was here when I got attacked," Church recalled. "Maybe he knows something." Cautiously, he peeked through a window to a lower chamber and he spotted the bomb. "Hey, Andy… Andy!"

"He-he-hey," the bomb chuckled. "Look who's back, the dickhead!"

"Hey, up yours," Church snapped.

"Back for another beating?" Andy giggled. "It must be ass kick o'clock!"

"Where's that big alien?" Church asked.

"I don't know," Andy replied. "Last time I saw him, he was halfway up your ass."

"Is this bomb giving you a hard time?" Tex called out as she entered.

"I see you brought a _girl_ with you," Andy chuckled. "What're you gonna do, have a _crying contest?_"

With a scowl, Church turned a corner and spotted a cobalt-blue armored form lying in the passageway. "Hey, look, there's my body right there."

As Tucker approached, he suddenly heard a deep growl coming from his left. "Huh?" Turning round, he caught a glimpse of blue skin and sharp, white teeth. "There it is!"

"Oh crap!" Tex yelped.

"RUN!" Church screamed.

As they scrambled away from the creature, they fired their guns in every direction but one.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Tucker screamed, jumping out of a window. "I don't wanna die, what the fuck is that thing? Women and children last!"

Tex fired a few rounds at the creature's general direction before sprinting out the door.

"Run run run run run run run!" Church yelled, dashing through the wall next to the door.

"What, you leaving already?" Andy laughed hysterically. "That's fucking hilarious!"

Outside, Caboose watched puzzled as Church, Tucker and Tex ran past him. "Did we win?" he called out, running after them.

"Yeah, Caboose, we won!" Tucker yelled back. "This is our victory lap!"

"Hey, come back in," Andy taunted the retreating Blues. "I think you're tiring him out!"

* * *

***hears Andy splitting his circuits with mirth* Oh shut up, it's not that funny!**


	3. Fight or Fright

**It's Episode 60 and things are getting interesting for both sides.**

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Chapter 3: Fight or Fright

In Blood Gulch, Sarge had determined that the Red Base was unoccupied and led his team down to reclaim it. Simmons however was trying to convince his leader that he, Grif and Donut had seen a tank drive past behind him but Sarge didn't believe it.

"I'm telling you, it was here," Simmons insisted. "It drove by while you were talking. You had your back turned and it went zoom right behind you!"

"Well," Donut put in. "It really sounded like: _**Ehhhhhhhrchugachugchur- ah my leg, ah**__!_"

"That's not the important part of the story, Donut," Simmons snapped.

"Sure, Simmons, I believe you," Sarge replied doubtfully. "You saw an enormous tank that appeared miraculously and then just as quickly disappeared. And you're the only one that can see it, just like signs of Donut's heterosexuality."

"No I'm not!" Simmons shouted. "Donut saw it too!"

"Yeah," Donut agreed.

"Donut's impressionable," Sarge retorted. "He'd agree with anything you said."

"Yeah," Donut repeated.

"Aw hell, he'd eat a spoonful of dirt if you told him it tasted like chocolate."

Donut gasped. "That's not true!"

"Oh, so that's where you draw the line?" Sarge chuckled.

"No," Donut replied. "I mean, it's not true that dirt tastes like chocolate right? Seriously… right?"

"Okay," Simmons sighed. "Grif saw it too. We all saw it."

Grif just stared at him in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about; I didn't see a damn thing."

"WHAT?" Simmons yelled.

"Tank, you say?" Grif asked. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was too busy paying attention to our Sergeant while he gave us our orders."

"Oh _really?_" Simmons scowled. "Well, what did he say?"

Grif just shrugged. "Something inspiring about beating the Blues, and the base or the flag, er or something… I'm pretty sure he mentioned a polecat too. I was getting a little emotional at the end."

"You see, Simmons?" Sarge said. "Some soldiers know how to pay attention."

"Wow," Grif muttered. "That might be the first time you've ever actually compli-"

"Shut up, dirtbag," Sarge interrupted.

Simmons was still flabbergasted. "Grif, you _just told us two minutes ago_ that you saw it!"

"Yeah, I know," Grif chuckled. "But it's a lot more fun this way."

Meanwhile, at the complex, the Blues had stopped by the inner wall to catch their breaths.

"Ugh, man," Church groaned, getting up from his seat on a rock. "I just cannot fuckin' stand the idea of my body laying in there."

"Ha ha, you never looked better!" Andy's voice echoed from the building.

"Hey, _shut up Andy_!" Church yelled back then he sighed. "You know, we could have taken that alien out if I'd have hit him just a few more times."

"A few more times?" Tucker cried. "How about one time?"

"Well, I think I landed at least two or three shots," Church murmured.

"Yeah right," Tucker scoffed.

"You didn't hit anything but the wall," Tex agreed.

"How the hell would you know?" Church argued. "You were runnin' straight backwards."

Tex held up her sniper rifle. "This is a long range weapon, okay? I need distance to use it effectively."

"Where were you planning on shooting him _from_, the fucking moon?" Tucker asked in disbelief. "If you'd have backed up any further, you'd have had to _mail_ him the bullets."

"You know what? I work better alone," Tex cried out, jumping to her feet and pulling out her assault rifle. "You ladies stay here; I'll be back in two minutes with that thing's head on a platter."

As Tex marched back towards the building, Tucker turned to Church in concern. "Does it ever bother you that the most take-charge guy on our team is a girl?"

"Not at all," Church replied with a shrug. "As long as I get my body back, I don't care if I'm a hero."

Tucker and Caboose stared at Church for a moment then they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Church glared at them. "What?"

"Well, Church, you're kind of a long way from 'hero'," Tucker replied between giggles. "Wouldn't it have been better to say 'I don't care if I'm a _participant_'? Or maybe bystander?"

"Shut up," Church snapped.

"Or a decoy," Caboose added.

Church glowered at him. "Hey Caboose, don't help him, okay?"

Tucker then looked round and spotted Tex as she entered the building. "Hey, she's going in," he informed the others. "You guys think she can take him?"

In response, they suddenly heard a loud roar then the sound of a punch and seconds later, Tex's panting ghost appeared behind them. "Aw, _crap_."

"Nope," Church replied smugly.

Back in Blood Gulch, Simmons watched as Donut rode his hover-scooter back and forth across the canyon. "Come on, Donut, give someone else a turn!"

"Wait, wait," Donut called out, slowing the bike to a halt. "I wanna show you guys a bunny hop I'm working on, look!" He then started jerking the bike back and forth. "N-no wait, now, he- look, look- aw, man, I was totally doing it earlier. Why weren't you guys watching then?"

"I need it to find the tank!" Simmons yelled, ignoring Donut's tomfoolery.

As Donut whizzed around Simmons, whooping with glee, on a nearby hill, Grif came up to a concerned Sarge.

"Grif, I wanna share something with you," Sarge muttered. "And you can't let Simmons know."

"Whatever," Grif sighed.

Sarge turned to look at Simmons as he engaged Donut in a struggle to take the hover-bike, which he quickly lost. "I think that Simmons has gone mad. It's probably some kind of time-travel, post-traumatic, repetitive stress syndrome. In scientific terms, he's developed Cranial Insanitosis. Basically, he's gone bonkers."

"Sarge, I'm not crazy," Simmons' voice yelled through their helmets. "I really saw a tank."

"And apparently, he's developed some kind of mutant telepathy power," Sarge gasped. "Clear your mind, Grif, he can hear your thoughts!"

"No, you guys just left your mikes on again," Simmons sighed irritably. "I keep telling you not to do that because you're just wasting the batteries. Oh, and guess who rechar-"

"Clearly, he's sabotaging us with his superior technology," Sarge cut in, switching off his radio. "Grif, I need you to step up to the plate. You're my #2 man now."

"Does that mean more work?" Grif groaned.

"Of course," Sarge replied. "You'll have to do Simmons' regular duties on top of the responsibilities I normally entrust you with."

"So basically, just Simmons' duties then," Grif sighed.

"Right," Sarge confirmed. "Luckily we still have Donut, so no one can fill in _his_ shoes." With that, he turned round and yelled, "Donut, combat situation!"

"Yes sir, I'm on it!" Donut then rode off through the canyon screaming like a woman. "WHAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAHH NOOOOOOO!"

"What a pro," Sarge murmured admiringly. "Simmons- I mean, Grif, establish a perimeter!"

"Huh?" Grif realized Sarge was talking to him again. "What's that?"

"Make a border around us," Sarge explained, "and make sure _no_ enemy crosses it."

Grif let out an exasperated groan. "That sounds like a lot of effort. Can't I just go back to being #3 again?"

"#3? What do you mean #3?"

"Oh right, Donut… Can I go back to being #4 then?"

"And Lopez."

"Fine, I'll be #5, I don't care."

"I don't know. That O'Malley guy can really work a rocket launcher."

"But he's the enemy!"

"I'm not real particular." Sarge then spotted Simmons coming towards them. "Now get to work on that perimeter; bogey approaching!"

"Sir," Simmons called as he approached. "I _really_ think we should be looking for that tank."

"Hold on a minute." Sarge held out his hands as Grif knelt down and started drawing in the dirt with the sniper rifle. "Let's just take it easy there, Private First Class Dick Simmons."

"But I-" Simmons' words stuck in his mouth when he heard Sarge. "Hey, what? Why did you use my _full_ name?"

Sarge was about to reply when he looked down and saw Grif finish his work. "Grif, what in Sam hell are you doing?"

"I secured your perimeter, Sir." Grif stood up and admired the circle he'd drawn around Sarge. "Now, I'm gonna go over to the chow hall and secure some Oreos. I got a diet to keep up. Break time!" And he ran back towards the Base.

"Honeymoon's over, numbnuts," Sarge bellowed at his back. "You're back down to #7!"

"Oh yeah?" Grif yelled back. "Well I saw the tank too!"

Back at the complex, the Blues, dead and alive, were thinking over ways to get past the alien and recover Church's and Tex's bodies.

After three hours of thought, Tucker had a brainwave. "Maybe Caboose should try talking to him."

"Uh, what would _I_ say?" Caboose muttered nervously.

"Start with some common ground," Tucker suggested, "like how you both killed Church."

"Mmmm, good times," Caboose sighed nostalgically.

"You know," Church said slowly. "I actually like that idea."

"You do?" Tex asked.

"Well, think about it," Church replied. "While our Ambassador here is either being A) _eaten_ by the alien, or B) _digested_ by the alien, you and I can sneak back in and get our bodies."

Caboose jumped up and threw an arm over Tucker's shoulders. "I would make an excellent Ambidasdor, because I am very shy!"

"Get away from me, freak!" Tucker cried, wriggling out of his teammate's hug.

Church chuckled to himself. "You know, if that word's too hard to pronounce, you can just call yourself _bait_."

With a nod, Caboose entered the main building. Church and Tex waited for five minutes then they followed him. As they reached the top of the ramp, Tex spotted a black form lying on the floor. "There's my body."

"Oh yeah, hey, look, there's your body." Church let out a snigger. "You really didn't make it very far, did you?"

Tex took out her assault rifle and held it out as she considered, "You know I wonder, if I killed a ghost, would it come back as a ghost of a ghost?"

"Yeah, that's a good point," Church gulped as he backed away. "I'll… shut up now."

Meanwhile, Caboose kept walking down the passageway until he came across the bomb. "Hey Andy," he called out. "Say, have you seeeeen, um, it's a big, uh slimy, like alien looking thing? It's uhhh, it's shaped just kinda like that shadow that's on the ground next to you…" He trailed off as he followed the shadow up to its source and then gulped. "Oh."

* * *

**Oh dearie me…**


	4. Fair Competition

**Okay, it's Episode 61 and… Darn it, I can't think of a good opening.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Fair Competition

At Blood Gulch, Sarge gathered his men in the canyon for an important session.

"Alright, men, and Donut," Sarge started. "Since Simmons has been demoted for reasons of dementia-"

"The tank was real!" Simmons yelled from his position by the cliffs.

"And he's been ordered by the Judge to stay at least two hundred yards away from us-"

"Oh come on, that wasn't a real Judge," Simmons shouted. "That was Donut wearing a powdered wig!"

"Over-" Donut cleared his throat and continued in a deep voice, "Overruled, shame on you."

Sarge nodded in satisfaction and finished, "We are now holding auditions for the permanent position of Second-in-Command here at Blood Gulch Outpost #1."

"WHAT!?" Simmons bellowed.

Sarge flung a rock at Simmons to shut him up and continued, "And since Simmons is disqualified because of the afore mentioned cuckooness, and since Grif is ineligible-"

"Or because I don't wanna compete," Grif interrupted.

"Because you're ineligible," Sarge replied.

"No, I just don't wanna compete."

"Of course you don't, because you're ineligible!"

Grif just sighed. "Whatever."

"I guess that means I get the job," Donut cried out. "Because I'm unopposed, which is the same way I got 'Most likely to be fabulous' in high school."

"Actually Donut," Sarge argued, "I managed to find some other candidates for you to compete against."

Donut was stunned. "Huh?"

"We've located an old wrench used by Lopez and a skull of unknown origin," Sarge explained, placing the two items on the ground next to Donut. "Some dirt and a rock entered the preliminaries but they didn't make it to the semifinals, lazy bastards."

"Yeah," Donut chuckled confidently. "You guys are going down! In your face, _wrench_, in your face! Ha ha, take that, _bonehead_! Woohoo!"

"You will be competing against each other in a series of grueling events in order to gain my attention," Sarge told him. "First up, the obstacle course. Grif, get the alligators!"

"I thought I was ineligible," Grif said puzzled.

"To earn my respect, dirtbag," Sarge argued. "You're still perfectly capable of grunt work."

As Grif reluctantly got to work on the obstacle course, Simmons just watched from the cliffs, feeling very low in spirits.

"Oh man, I can't believe this," he moaned, slumping down on the rock that had been thrown at him. "My life was going exactly as planned. I was Second-in-Command of a marginally successful unit, I had a superior officer who genuinely cared about me, and I had the respect and admiration of all my peers. That was the dream!" he wailed, Freon tears streaking his cyborg face. "How did it all go so wrong? How? Hahahahow?" He buried his face in his hands as he sobbed then he looked up with an angry scowl. "Maybe that stupid tank _was_ just a figment of my imagination."

"I don't think so," a feminine mechanical voice spoke up.

Simmons whirled round to see the Scorpion-Class tank right behind him. "Shut up," he snapped. "You ruined my life."

Meanwhile, inside the complex, Church and Tex managed to possess their bodies again and were about to head out when they heard Caboose's voice from down the passage. "I think I will call him Crunchbite."

As they followed the voice towards the room, they heard Andy retort, "That's a _stupid name_."

"Uh, well," Caboose scoffed. "I think it's better than your suggestion: Crouchasaurus."

"Caboose, who are you talking to…" Church's voice stuck in his throat as his question was answered. "HOLY SHIT!"

"Blaaarrrg!" the alien roared, rearing up to its full seven foot height.

Church and Tex raised their assault rifles at it but Caboose jumped in front of them, holding up his hands. "Stop!" he cried out. "He is my friend. He is not going to eat anybody."

"Yeah," Andy agreed. "He thinks you guys _stink_ too much to eat."

As the alien crouched down again on double-jointed legs, Tex stared at it in bafflement. Its skin was mainly grey but it was covered in armor the same shade of blue as Caboose's armor. Its feet had two toes each and it had four fingers on each hand. Its lower jaw was split into four mandibles, each with a row of sharp teeth and it regarded the Blues with hard glinting eyes partly obscured under its helmet.

"He thinks _we_ stink?" she cried out. "It smells like someone set a fish on fire in here."

"Largh?' the alien growled, offended.

"Caboose, what the fuck?" Church murmured, lowering his gun and eyeing the alien cautiously. "Are you sure about this thing?"

"Absolutely," Caboose reassured. "He has not tried to bite me at all… since he bit me the first time."

"Yeah," Andy chuckled. "That was hilarious."

Caboose then winced and rubbed his bottom. "I think I might need a tetanus shot."

The alien then let out a loud "Hrrrnnk!" right into Church's face.

"Whoa," Church coughed, placing his hands over his helmet filter. "That thing's breath smells like infected cheese on a hotplate!"

"Largh, blargh!" the alien grunted.

"I don't think he liked that," Andy sniggered.

Just then, Tucker came towards the doorway, pistol raised, but when he sniffed the air, he suddenly gagged and dropped the gun.

"Whoa, man," he gasped, waving a hand in front of his filter. "What is that stench? Is a skunk juggling dead hamsters in here? It smells like old yogurt." He stepped inside the room and scowled at the alien. "Did you eat and then throw up a can of trash?"

"Hnnnk!" the alien cried out.

"That's exactly what he said right before he bit me," Caboose said.

"Largher, hnnk! Blargh!"

Tex turned to the others. "You understand what he's saying?"

The alien then began to blargh and honk at them.

"Hey, hey wait," Church cried. "I think I'm hearing a pattern here. I think that blarghs come after honks… or vice versa."

Caboose struggled to think. "I think… I think blargh means… me, or apples." He gasped. "Guys, Apples must be the name of his cat!" He turned to the alien. "Quick, quick, is- is Apples stuck in a tree? I will call the fire department."

Church rolled his eyes and turned to the creature. "Mister Huge Alien," he asked loudly and slowly. "Do you understand what _we_ are saying?"

In response, the alien threw back its head and let out a loud "Whaarrrggh!"

Church scratched his head in puzzlement. "I have no idea if that means yes or no."

"Yeah, totally blows away your vica versa theory, sorry," Caboose agreed.

"You two are retarded," Tucker cut in. "You're not gonna be able to figure out alien language by experimentation, give it up."

"You don't know that!" Church argued.

"You don't even know how they talk," Tucker retorted. "What if their language isn't entirely verbal? It could be part telepathic, or via _smells_. Yuck!"

"Well if it's via smells," Church countered, "then you should be fluent in the language already, jackass!"

"Hnnk!" the alien added.

"Oh shut up," Church snapped. "You're not helping."

"Wait!" Caboose said. "I think Tucker might be right. I think he might be saying things telepathically. I just heard something in my head!"

"What?" Church cried. "What was it?"

"It was a voice," Caboose muttered, "saying, 'Blargh blargh blargh honk'."

Church let out an irritated sigh. "That wasn't in your head, Caboose, he just said that. You're just so dumb you're lagging a few seconds behind us. By the time your brain has figured out what it's heard, it feels like it's already happened."

Caboose was silent for a few seconds then he retorted, "That's not true!"

"Blargh!" the alien growled.

"Wait!" Caboose shouted. "I hear something else in my head! It must be Apples trying to communicate with me! Quick, Tucker, get a ladder!"

* * *

**You know what's going through my head? Caboose… is… a moron.**

_**Alien**_**: Blargh!**

**And Crunchbite agrees with me.**


	5. Lost in Triangulation

**Here's Episode 62 and things are calming down again.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Lost in Triangulation

In Blood Gulch, Donut waited by the wrench and the skull for Sarge's evaluation.

"Alright, dirtbags," Sarge said. "After the third round of the competition, it's still anyone's contest."

"Yeah-hah," Donut cheered. "Burn, _wrench_, anyone includes me! Haha!"

Sarge continued, "Donut was leading after the obstacle course and talent contest."

"Awesome!" Donut crowed then did his winning Michael Jackson cheer. "Whodihoo!"

"But then the mysterious skull pulled ahead during the question and answer session."

Donut frowned. "That doesn't seem physically possible."

Sarge then added up the score. "So the standings are the skull, Donut, and in third place the wrench which is the current crowd favorite."

A loud beeping made them look round to see the Warthog Mk 2 parked on a hill with the windscreen painted with the words 'Go Wrench! All the way to State! Skull sucks'.

"Maybe the skull will be your new sidekick," Grif chuckled. "'Hey Sarge, how can I kiss your ass if I don't have any lips?' Hehehehee!"

"And in last place, Grif," Sarge finished.

"What?" Grif cried out. "I thought I was ineligible."

"Ineligible to _win_, dead man," Sarge argued. "Luckily there's no chance of that happening since the last round is the evening-wear competition."

"Whohohoa," Donut chortled. "You're in trouble now, skull."

"Then can I quit?" Grif moaned.

"Course not," Sarge snapped. "Only _eligible_ contestants can withdraw from the competition. I guess you'll just have to settle for fifth place, turdbelly."

Grif let out a sigh then realized, "_Fifth_ place? Should I even ask who's in fourth?"

Sarge let out a smirk. "I'm reserving fourth place for any late entries that would obviously be better than you, such as a turd or a turd farmer."

Meanwhile at the complex, the Blues still hadn't figured out the alien's language so Church decided to talk with the computer face in the generator room. "Hey Gary, is there any way that you could translate what this big alien is saying to us?"

The sky-blue face thought for a moment then frowned. "NO."

"Aw, come on man," Church egged on. "Isn't this one of the aliens that built you?"

"YES. BUT I DO NOT KNOW MUCH ABOUT THOSE CREATURES. I WAS ONLY PROGRAMMED WITH KNOWLEDGE OF THE SHISNOS… I MEAN YOU."

"Yeah," Church grunted in displeasure. "Listen man, that word is really starting to bug me a little bit."

"YOU DID NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT IT MEANT UNTIL I TOLD YOU."

"I know but you just say it so much."

Gary looked put-off. "I ONLY SAY SHISNO IN CONTEXT, LIKE WHEN TALKING TO A SHISNO OR ABOUT A SHISNO." He then stopped and looked thoughtful. "I THINK I SEE WHAT YOU MEAN, SHISNO."

"So you'll stop?"

"INTER-SPECIES PREJUDICES WILL TAKE A LONG TIME TO OVERCOME. BUT I WILL TRY."

"Thanks," Church said with a smile.

Gary nodded in agreement. "LUCKILY, I AM NOT LAZY LIKE A SHISNO."

Church sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's pretty clear you mean to give this your best effort."

"I THINK THE IMPORTANT THING IS THAT I AM TRYING," Gary replied.

With a shake of his head, Church made his way back to the room where his team and the alien were waiting. As he entered, he could hear Tucker explaining slowly to someone, "Okay, Church is trying to get a trans-lay-tor, so that we can talk to each other."

"Tucker, the enormous alien doesn't speak our language," Church said. "Speaking slowly is not gonna help."

"What?" Tucker asked puzzled. "I'm talking to Caboose."

"Oh."

Caboose meanwhile was looking puzzled. "I don't understand," he called out. "Are you- Are you Hungary? Tucker, are you Hungary? Are you cold?"

"What? No," Tucker scowled.

"Do you need a blanket?" Caboose continued. "Tucker, do you want some hot dogs in a blanket?"

"Dammit no, Caboose," Tucker snapped. "I'm not cold, I don't want a hot dog, and if you put mustard in my fucking sheets again, I'm gonna kill you!"

Caboose then turned to the alien and patted its slimy head. "Okay gargantuan alien, now that we have decided to keep you, you need a real name. I vote for Fluffy."

"Fluffy?!" Tucker spluttered.

Caboose nodded. "Fluffy, the alien that only loves!"

"He's _got_ to have a name," Tucker muttered. "Why don't we just ask him?" He knelt down to the alien's non-existant eye-level. "Hey alien dude, what's your name? Name… I am Tucker." He turned to his leader. "This is Church." He then nodded to Tex. "That's Bitch-pants McCrabby."

"Hey!" Tex shouted.

"Well that's what we call you," Tucker said with a shrug.

"Not me," Caboose put in. "I call you _Mrs._ McCrabby."

"Thanks," Tex sighed.

Church then had a go. "What is your name?"

"Hernk Hurnk," the alien replied.

"Your name."

"Hernk Hurnk."

"Naayyy-mmuhhh!"

"Just keep repeating it, Church," Tucker encouraged sarcastically. "I'm sure he'll come up with the right definition on his own."

Church ignored him. "He is Tucker. Tuc-ker. You are?"

"Hernk Hurnk."

"No, no, no, not 'honk honk'. Name."

"Hernk Hurnk."

"Okay, I give up," Church sighed, getting back up. "All this guy ever says is honk honk."

"Well," Tex pondered. "Have you ever considered the fact that his _name_ is Honk-Honk?"

"Glwargh?" the alien growled, looking over at Tex.

"Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?" Tucker giggled.

"Yeah," Church chuckled in agreement. "I mean seriously, what kind of name is Honk-Honk?"

"Glwargh?" the alien repeated, turning towards Church.

The Blue leader noticed the alien looking at him and asked, "Hey, big alien, is your name Honk-Honk?"

"Lwargh," the alien grunted.

"Hey wait a second," Church muttered thoughtfully. "I think blarg means yes. Alien, does blarg mean yes?"

"Blarg."

"Holy shit!" Church cried out. "Blarg means yes, he just said yes, blarg means yes. I can speak alien!"

"Yeah, unless blarg means no," Tex argued. "In which case, he just said no, blarg does not mean yes."

"_What,_ no way," Church scoffed. "Hey alien, am I right?"

"Blarg."

"Ha, see?" Church laughed. "The fuck do you know?"

Back at Blood Gulch, Sarge was ready to announce the results of the competition. "After the final tabulation, we've declared a winner!" he stated. "Grif, the envelope please."

"Envelope?" Grif cried out. "We don't have any envelopes, this is the army."

Sarge scowled at him then announced, "Donut's the winner."

"Oh YES!" Donut cheered, throwing his top hat into the air in triumph.

From the cliffs, Simmons heard Donut's cheer and let out a sigh. "Well, my life is officially over. Time to go kill myself…"

He set off into the canyon and Sheila rolled along after him calling out, "Wait for me!"

Simmons sighed and turned around. "Look, no offense, imaginary tank, but I don't believe in you. You're just a product of my imagination."

"Actually," Sheila corrected, "I'm a product of the military contractor that made the lowest bid." She lowered her turret sadly. "I'm a little ashamed of that."

"Well, leave me alone," Simmons yelled. "I can't have some imaginary tank ruining my excellent reputation. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go dig a hole to live in."

He went on into the canyon, Sheila following close behind then he stopped and let out a sigh. "I wish Grif was here. I could convince him there was food in the ground then he would dig half the hole for me, or maybe a third of a hole. Then he'd use the shovel to eat oatmeal." He shuddered at the thought. "On second thought, I _don't_ wish Grif was here."

"You can live with me," Sheila invited.

Simmons closed his eyes and placed his hands on the side of his helmet. "Just ignore it, it's _not real_."

"I have my own base," Sheila continued, rolling up next to him. "In fact, I've made _lots_ of renovations since you all left, see?" She pointed her turret to a building similar to the Red Base.

Simmons looked up and gasped. "Hey, that's the old Blue Base."

"Yes! I was sent to guard it from something. I can't really remember what…" Sheila rolled back and forth on her treads in the tank equivalent of scratching her head. "Some of my memory banks have failed over the years. Do you remember what the Blues were fighting?"

Simmons gulped, knowing that if he told her the truth she would fire her cannon at him. "Uuuuuuh, I think it was pirates."

"Are you sure?" Sheila pressed. "I think it was another army and I think they were a different color."

"No, it was definitely pirates," Simmons reassured.

"That doesn't sound right," Sheila muttered.

And so it continued like this:

"Yeah, pirates. And I think there were some ninjas that were working with them."

"Noooo, I don't think so."

"And I think they had travelled from another planet."

"Incorrect."

"I think it was called Cowboyland."

"Negative."

"And they were here to rustle up some cattle."

"No."

"But the Blues were gonna stop them."

"Nah."

"No wait- monkeys. Monkey pirates!"

"Nope."

"From Uranus."

"My logical data analysis sector indicates that would be highly unlikely. And my bullshit meter agrees."

* * *

**Boy, for a tank she sure is stubborn.**


	6. The Hard Stop

**It's Episode 63 and a couple of twists will be in this tale.**

* * *

Chapter 6: The Hard Stop

"Church?" Tucker's voice echoed across the complex as he searched for his leader. "Chuu-uurch! Hey, Church!"

"I'm right behind you, dumbass."

Tucker whirled round and spotted his leader standing there. "Oh. Hey Church, do you have a knife?"

"No, that's a weapon dude," Church said. "Ask Tex."

"I can't," Tucker replied. "She said she had something to take care of. Girl stuff, I think."

"Huh? Like what?"

"I don't know," Tucker answered with a shrug. "I stopped asking questions at 'girl stuff'."

Church then spotted Caboose sitting in front of the alien, showing it pictures drawn on the wall. "What're you two guys doing?"

"We're gonna teach the alien how to speak English," Tucker replied.

"How're you gonna do _that_?"

"People learn English all the time, it aren't _that_ hard."

Church rolled his eyes at his teammate. "Maybe you should try learning _his_ language."

"Fuck that. We got here first and that makes this a colony. Those are the rules, dude: Earth colony, Earth language."

"Tucker, there's thousands of languages spoken on Earth."

"Yeah, but only one that kicks ass. And that's the one we're teaching. English 101: Remedial Kick-Ass."

"Alright," Church sighed, folding his arms. "There is no way this is gonna work."

"Yeah it is," Tucker disagreed. "We got visual aids and everything."

Church took a moment to look at the drawings on the wall. "Where the hell did you get those?"

"We made them. It turns out Caboose's gun didn't have any bullets, it was loaded with crayons!" He held out a blue crayon and a small piece of broken metal to show Church. "I just need to cut one of these; do you have a pocket knife?"

"Hey, if you need to cut something, why don't you just use that big sword of yours?" Church replied.

"Oh, right, duh," Tucker said, slapping his forehead. He then pulled the handle off his belt and activated the sword.

"Whargh?" The alien started at the sound of the activation and turned its head round. It took one glimpse at Tucker's sword, and then with a loud roar, it pounced onto the teal Spartan.

"AHHH!" Tucker yelped as the alien knocked him down and then started punching him on the head. "What the fuck?!"

"Whoa!" Church cried out in alarm then quickly recovered and chuckled, "Man, Tucker, that thing either really hates that sword, or really hates you."

"Aaaaaaahhh!" Tucker screamed as he covered his head with his arms. "Get this fucking thing off me!"

"Hey, wait a second, Tucker," Church shouted as he knelt down next to them. "This might be a good chance for us to evaluate how these things fight." He picked up the dropped crayon and the piece of metal and started taking notes. "Now hold still… for science."

As the alien now moved on to punching the rest of Tucker's body, the teal Spartan screamed in agony, "Not the face, not the face!"

Meanwhile, in the Blue Base in Blood Gulch, Simmons made his way to the main computer and tuned the radio to the Reds' frequency. "Sarge, can you hear me?" he called out. "Sarge, come in, Sarge. Sarge, do you read me? This is Simmons, come in."

"Hello, Red Army HQ," Donut's voice replied in the manner of a telephone operator. "We don't stop until every Blue is dead."

"Donut, let me talk to Sarge," Simmons cried.

"For help in English, press or say 1."

Simmons sighed. "One."

"Para Espanol, marque numero dos."

"One. Wuuuunnnnah. Wu- God dammit." Simmons pressed one on the keypad.

"For unconfirmed Dutch-Irish, press 1 too, as in also."

"Donut!" Simmons yelled.

"Oh hey, Simmons, what's up?" Donut asked with a giggle.

"Donut, put Sarge on," Simmons shouted urgently.

"Oooh, yeah, Sarge is really busy," Donut replied uneasily. "Things have really picked up since you left, uh, let me see…"

"Donut, I'm not here," Sarge's voice called out from a distance. "Just take a message."

"Do you mind if I put you on hold?" Donut asked.

Simmons was now getting annoyed. "Donut, stop screening my calls!"

"Sorry, Simmons, Sarge isn't available at the moment," Donut apologized. "I'll tell you what, I can ask him to call you back but it's really better if you have an appointment."

"Tell him you've got call waiting," Sarge called out. "No, wait, we're going through a tunnel."

"Oh, for the love of God, I can _hear_ him, Donut!" Simmons yelled. "Would you just tell him that I've captured the Blue Base and…" He looked over his shoulder quickly before whispering, "And I've taken possession of their tank."

"Right, right…" Donut then spoke slowly and carefully as if he was writing the information down. "Simmons… Blue Base… Taaaaannnnk… tank."

"Are you really writing this down?" Simmons growled, sensing Donut's irony.

"Look, I have to go," Donut said. "We have a conference with Grif in five minutes; he's pitching ideas for how to use your rations. Gotta run! If anything comes up, we'll call _you_… And, Simmons?"

"What?" Simmons snarled through gritted teeth.

"This job is the best! I can't believe you quit!" And the radio went dead.

Simmons gaped in silence for a moment then he scowled. "That's it, I'm gonna kill 'em all." He grabbed a sniper rifle and ran outside to where the tank was waiting. "Hey Sheila, lock and load! We've got somewhere to go!"

Back at the complex, the alien was still beating the hell out of Tucker and the teal Spartan's cries of agony had descended into just moaning between each pound he got, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…"

In the passageway, Tex met up with Andy. "Alright bomb, we need to talk."

"Oh yeah?" Andy chuckled. "Talk about what, Butch, working on cars and picking up chicks?"

"Excuse me," Tex scowled, placing her hands on her sides. "Is that any way to talk to a lady?"

"A lady, _who're you kidding_?" Andy sniggered. "I bet you got more balls than a Roman candle."

Tex let out an angry sigh. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"Hey, Tex," Andy taunted. "Why you got black armor, couldn't find anything in flannel? Ha! Flannel!"

"Listen, jackass," Tex snapped. "I put you together, I can take you apart."

Andy's laughter cut off. "Hey, whaddaya mean?"

"Bombs come with remote detonators, dumbass." Tex then pulled out a small remote control from her belt. "And any time I want, I can just hit a button and you're just a memory… a very annoying, very _insulting_ memory, but nonetheless a memory."

"I think you're bluffing," Andy muttered before adding, "Dike."

"Okay, strike two," Tex warned, holding her finger just inches over the button.

"Alright," Andy yelped. "Whaddaya want?"

"Well, when I built you, I used parts from an old protocol robot."

"Yeah, sure. And you also used parts from some of your more _personal_ devices."

"Whoa," Tex quickly interrupted. "Okay, can you _use_ those protocol parts and translate what this alien thing is saying?"

"Of course!" Andy replied. "But what's in it for me?"

"Let's put it this way," Tex answered, waving the remote in front of the bomb. "_You_ don't push my buttons and I don't push yours."

"Alright, fine," Andy sighed. "But I'm not translating any of that touchy-feely crap!"

"Deal… Come on." Tex put away the remote and set off down the passage but then stopped as she realized that Andy wasn't following. "Well, are you coming?"

"What am I gonna do, roll there?" Andy retorted. "Pick me up, you dumb bitch!"

"Great." Tex sighed as she came back and just managed to lift the bomb. "I can tell _this_ is starting off well."

As she set off again, Andy decided to annoy her again. "Hey Tex, I bet you haven't had your hands on a ball _this_ big since your morning scratch!" He burst out laughing but Tex just scowled, let him drop to the floor and stamped away down the passage.

"HEY, aw come on!" Andy called out. "Tex baby, where're ya going? It's just a joke between the two of us _guys_, come on! Laugh it off, big guy, laugh it off!"

Tex shook her head and rolled her eyes as she kept going, but Andy still wouldn't let her off. "Hey, Tex, when you walk away, I can see where you tucked it!"

* * *

**Great, he's not just annoying, he's sexist too.**


	7. Previous Commitments

**Here's Episode 64 and some questions are about to be answered.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Previous Commitments

Rather than carry the annoying Andy outside, Tex called Church and Caboose into the complex and explained her plans for the alien.

When she'd finished, Church shook his head in disbelief. "You have _got_ to be kidding me," he scowled. "There is _no way_ I'm gonna let this happen."

"I told you, he can do it," Tex assured.

"Yeah, I'm qualified," Andy agreed.

"Listen, I don't doubt that he can do it," Church argued. "I doubt that I _want_ him to do it."

"Why?" Andy asked in a puzzled tone.

Church grimaced uncomfortably. "Well, you know what, Andy? You're not exactly the most diplomatic of individuals."

"That's bullshit. You're only saying that because you're racist!"

"Racist? Bombs are not a race!"

"Ah, shut up, you dirty Shishno."

Church growled in anger and turned to Tex. "We finally make contact with an alien being, and our first attempt at communication is gonna be through a **bomb?** Am I the only person who has a problem with this?"

"Well, unless you got your English to Blarg-blarg dictionary, I don't think you got a choice now, do you?" Andy pointed out.

"I had one of those," Caboose put in. "But I threw it out, it didn't have many pictures."

"I'm sure this'll be fine," Tex reassured her ex-boyfriend.

Church let out a reluctant sigh. "You know, I feel that I'm gonna regret this, but I feel even more that I just don't care… and that watching this whole thing unravel might be kinda interesting. Go for it."

"Alright," Tex said, clapping her hands together in eagerness. "Where's the alien?"

Church gasped in alarm. "Oh shit, I forgot!"

He ran to the window and looked outside… to see the alien still busy pounding the living hell out of Tucker, who was still crying out but more in boredom than of pain, "Ow, ow, ow, ow…"

Meanwhile in Blood Gulch, Grif had left the Red Base so he wouldn't get bossed around by Sarge and Donut and was now standing in the canyon, minding his own business when he heard his name being called. "Grif! Oh Griiiiiiiif…"

Grif turned round to see Donut coming towards him on the hover-scooter and sighed. "Oh great…"

"Grif, there you are," Donut called out as he arrived. "Where've you been?"

"Right here," Grif replied, pointing at his spot.

"I've been lookin' all over for you," Donut said, dismounting from the bike. "I looked _in_ the Base, I looked _around_ the Base, I looked on _top_ of the Base, I looked _in_ the Base again-"

"I think you need to learn what 'all over' means," Grif interrupted.

Donut shrugged. "Anyway, Sarge wants you to come back to the Base and-"

"No," Grif cut in again. "I'm not going to do it."

"No?" Donut cried out. "But I didn't tell you what he wants."

"Donut, it's Sarge. I know he doesn't want me to come in to the Base to help him eat ice-cream, he wants me to do stuff… _work_ stuff."

"But-"

"Listen, Donut, I know you're riding high on your new promotion right now, but don't think you can order me around. Me and Simmons, we had a system. He didn't try to tell me what to do, and I didn't ignore him."

"Wait, you ignored him all the time," Donut recalled.

"I'm sorry, what? I wasn't listening," Grif replied. "See, the system works. Learn the system, Donut."

As Donut tried to get his instruction through and Grif continued to ignore him, on a cliff overlooking the middle of the canyon, a figure stood and spied on them through the scope of his sniper rifle. It was Simmons, but his armor was now painted in regulation blue so sloppily that in places, its original maroon color could still be seen.

"Look at those jerks," he muttered. "They don't know how good they have it…" He turned to look at the tank waiting down below. "Alright, Sheila, remember the plan: We don't wanna hurt them, I just wanna make them totally jealous for kicking me out." He glanced down at his painted armor. "How does my armor look? Am I all blue?"

"Yes," Sheila replied.

"Okay," Simmons nodded. "Let's start Operation Blue with Envy… you know, because normally it's green, but uh, I'm blue so it doesn't make any sense to say… oh, you know. Attack!"

Down below, Grif had finally driven Donut away and was settling back in his lazy mood when he suddenly heard a familiar voice calling out, "Hey Sheila, you know what's great? Being on the _Blue_ Team.

Grif looked towards the cliff and spotted a blue figure strolling along the ledge, talking to a tank rolling beneath him. "It's so awesome," the figure was saying, "way more awesome than being on that ol' _Red_ Team. Anyone can be on Red Team where you have to share a Base. On Blue Team, I get my _own_ Base."

"Is that Simmons?" Grif muttered then he called out, "Hey Simmons, why are you painted blue? Have you finally lost it?"

Simmons sighed in irritation. "This isn't working, they don't care. Sheila, just shoot at them."

"Firing main cannon," Sheila stated and fired a shell at the Base.

At that moment, Donut returned to the Base and found Sarge down in the cafeteria. "I did my best, Sarge," he explained, "but Grif said he wouldn't come to help."

"Oh, son of a Ben 'n' Jerry," Sarge scowled, slamming his hand down on one of the small tubs on the table. "Who's gonna help me eat all this ice-cream we found?"

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion and the whole Base shook as Sheila's round hit home.

"Ahhh, we're under attack!" Donut screamed in terror.

"Donut, you formulate a retaliation strategy," Sarge commanded, snatching up the tubs and ducking under the table. "I'll secure the rum raisin."

Back at the complex, Andy managed to convince the alien to stop hitting Tucker and now Tex and Church were helping the badly bruised Spartan to his feet.

"Oh-hohoh man, I'm gonna die," Tucker moaned.

Caboose stood next to Andy and the alien as the latter began to growl and honk. "What's he saying now, Andy?"

"Look guy," Andy snapped. "If you want me to translate for ya, you can't keep asking me every four seconds 'what's he saying now, Andy, what's he saying now?' I'm gonna tell you what he's sayin', that's my freakin' job!"

"That's what he said?" Caboose asked puzzled. "That's a weird thing to say. Uh, tell him I said okay, I will not ask any more of uh, that… and also no."

"I think I need a translator just for Caboose," Church muttered.

"Wuarrrrrgh!" the alien roared.

"Okay," Andy translated. "Basically, he's uh, he says he's pissed off."

"Oh yeah, no kidding!" Church snapped. "Tex, are we paying for this service?"

"Just give him a chance," Tex reassured.

The alien then started blarging and honking and Andy translated. "He says he came to claim some type of thing, and that the teal one took the thing, and now the thing is gone."

"Who's the teal one?" Tucker asked.

"You are, idiot," Tex replied.

"No way, I'm aqua. Teal's out."

"That thing that he's talking about must be that sword," Church assumed, pointing to the discarded weapon. "And it's not broken, it's right there."

"Arrgh blargh!" the alien retorted.

"He says it only works with the hero who passes the trial of the windmill and retrieves it from its resting place," Andy interpreted. "For everyone else, it might as well be broken."

"Uh oh," Tex gulped.

"_Trial?_ Please," Tucker scoffed. "I fell in a hole, that's not a trial. I'm starting to like this culture though; any dude who trips is a hero. I'm pretty sure that makes Caboose God."

"This all sounds like bullshit to me," Church agreed.

"No he's right," Tex recalled. "It didn't work for me, remember?"

"Of course it didn't work for you, you're a _girl_," Church argued. "I mean, you can't even work the entertainment center back at the Base, it doesn't mean the remote control is mythically attached to us."

"Alright then, you little smartass," Tex retorted. "_You_ pick it up and try it."

Church turned round and reached his hand for the sword but then he heard the alien chuckle behind his back and he quickly pulled his hand back. "Nah, I'll take his word for it."

The alien growled again and Andy said, "And now you gotta go with _him_ to fulfill the prophecy."

"Fuck you," Tucker scowled.

The alien let out a series of honks and Andy giggled, "Heh, good one… Oh yeah, he's not too thrilled about it either."

"See, I _knew_ this was a bad idea," Tucker retorted, folding his arms. "Sorry to fuck up your quest dude, but I'm not going."

"And if you don't go," Andy finished, "he'll destroy the base and kill everybody here."

Everyone was silent for a moment then Church spoke up, "Alright, well have fun guys."

"Hey a quest sounds fun," Tex agreed. "Come on, Tucker!"

"Uh, I think I'll stay here," Andy put in, "because I like that killing everybody option."

* * *

**Well, you would… stupid bomb.**


	8. Looking for Group

**Episode 65 gives us a preparation of the adventure to come.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Looking for Group

As the alien led the Blues down the corridors towards the beach, carrying Andy in its claws, it gave an explanation of the route that it and Tucker would be taking while Andy translated, "Then after we cross the Burning Plains of Honka Hill, we're gonna reach the _Freezing_ Plains of Blarganthia."

"The Burning Plains are next to the Freezing Plains?" Caboose asked. "I bet there are some pretty wet plains in between."

"This is so dumb," Tucker moaned as they left the complex. "I'm not doing this."

"Hey, news flash, you don't have a choice," Church reminded him. "You're the one who picked up the sword and locked it to yourself."

"I know!" Tucker shouted. "And I'm so used to picking up things and not _letting_ them get attached… I'm talking about women."

"I know, yes, I got it," Church sighed.

"Don't worry, Tucker," Tex reassured the teal/aqua Spartan. "We're not gonna send you alone."

"You're coming with me, Tex?" Tucker asked hopefully.

"Me? Hell no," Tex replied. "This is the first thing you wimps have done that actually sounds dangerous."

"Well, I'm not going with Church," Tucker scowled, folding his arms. "That guy's a worse fighter than I am."

"Well, you're in luck then," Church stated, "because, I'm not going either."

"What? Then who…" Tucker's voice trailed off as he glanced over at Caboose. "_No fucking way_! I'm not going with _him_!"

"Ooh, ooh, I hope we meet a Cleric along the way," Caboose beamed. "None of us know how to heal."

"Blargun," the alien growled.

"He says he's a healer," Andy translated.

"Oh good," Caboose said.

"Nah, not really," Andy confessed. "They _eat_ their wounded."

"Just like chiropractors," Caboose replied.

Tucker shook his head in disbelief as he turned to Church. "This is a joke, right, you're sending Caboose? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me?_" Church cried. "I saw a chance to get rid of Caboose and I took it. There's nothing wrong with me."

Caboose looked at each member of the team in turn. "Okay, so um, Tucker is the fighter, uh, Crunchbite is the healer, and I am the powerful… and intelligent wizard, uh, Morphumax."

"What the hell does that make me?" Andy asked.

"You're the good looking and stealthy archer," Caboose replied.

"A bow and arrow?" Andy snapped. "I don't have any arms, you freaking moron!"

"That's what makes you so stealthy." Caboose beamed at Tucker. "This is going to be the best party ever."

Tucker let out a sigh and covered his face with his hands. "I'm gonna fucking die."

"Yeah, I guess this is it, Tucker," Church chuckled. "Nice knowing you."

"Oh, you better hope that I _don't_ die," Tucker warned, "because if I do, you're the one taking care of my kids."

Church did a double take. "You have kids?"

"Heh, probably," Tucker replied with a shrug.

Meanwhile at Blood Gulch, Sheila was still firing her cannon at the Red Base while Simmons cheered her on from the cliff side.

"Yeah-ha, take that," he crowed as Sheila took out one of the barriers on the roof. "Suck it, Blue- I mean Red! Suck it Blue- uh damn, Red! God, this is harder than I thought."

Below him, Grif ran up next to Sheila and stared at his former teammate in shock. "Hey Simmons, what the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Simmons called down. "I'm attacking the Blue Base. I mean the Red Base, fuck!"

At the Red Base, Donut managed to get the doors closed and reported back to his leader who was still hiding in the cafeteria. "Defense is established, Sarge!"

Seconds later, there was a loud BOOM and the doors were blown off their hinges. Donut winced at the damage. "Cancel that, Sarge. Defenses are destroyed."

Outside, Grif shook his head. "Killing your own team, huh? That's cool. Hey listen, how long do you expect this whole crazy thing to last?"

"I'm not crazy, Grif! You just wouldn't listen to me when I said there was a tank."

"I listened to you."

"You told Sarge that there _wasn't a tank!_" Simmons pointed down towards Sheila. "There it is; it's a tank!"

"Oh, you said _listen_ to you, not agree with you." Grif let out a sigh. "Yeah, I thought that joke was pretty funny, but now Donut's my manager and everything kinda sucks now."

"Well, too bad, because this is what you get now, you dumb Blue bitch- Red bitch, fuck, you know what I mean."

Sheila fired another round that went through the doorway and Grif then heard glass shattering and Sarge cry out, "Great sodium chloride, there goes my chemistry set!"

Grif quickly decided to negotiate with Simmons before things went from bad to worse. "I don't think killing Sarge is much of a punishment for me. Just come back to the Base, man. I'll let you boss me around again."

"I don't know," Simmons muttered suspiciously. "I think you're just telling me what I wanna hear."

"I am. See, it's just like old times! Come on, buddy."

Simmons thought for a moment. "Will you help me clean my armor?"

Grif pondered that for a bit. "How about I _promise_ to help you clean it, but then just convince Donut to do it later?"

"Ha, good ole Grif," Simmons chuckled, sliding down the cliff.

But as he reached the bottom, Sarge came out the Base and spotted him. "Simmons, is that you?"

"Yeah, Sarge," Simmons called back. "But don't worry, we got-"

"Simmons," Sarge interrupted. "I can understand you going crazy and seeing imaginary tanks…"

"The tank is _right there_, for the love of God!"

"And I can obviously understand why you'd wanna attack your own Base…"

"You can?"

"But painting yourself _blue?_ Dear God, man, don't you have any shame at all?"

"Hey Sarge," Grif called out. "You should also note that he _missed_ a couple of spots."

"Grif, what in Sam Hell are you doing out here?" Sarge yelled out. "At least Simmons has the intelligence to formulate a mutinous plan!"

"Thank you, Sir," Simmons yelled before remembering, "I mean, suck it Blue! God dammit, I mean Red!"

"But you're a slothful idiot," Sarge continued. "Treason takes effort. I never expected this from you."

"Oh, up yours," Grif snapped.

"What was that?"

"Up yours, _Sir_."

"That's better."

* * *

**Yep, Simmons does seem better at treason than Girf.**


	9. Exploring our Differences

**And now for Episode 66, the great quest is about to begin.**

* * *

Chapter 9: Exploring our Differences

On the beach outside the complex, Tucker, Caboose and Andy were ready to follow the alien, Crunchbite on the quest.

"Well, good luck guys," Church said. "Don't forget to change your underwear at least once a day. Tucker, that goes double for you."

"What?" Tucker cried out. "I'm the cleanest guy here."

"No," Church corrected. "It goes double for you because now you're in charge of changing Caboose as well."

Tucker scowled. "I hate you."

"Blorgh!" Crunchbite growled.

"He doesn't wear any pants," Andy translated from the alien's hands.

"Yeah, we noticed," Tucker sighed. "If we meet anybody on this adventure, that might have to change."

"Why? We're used to being naked," Andy shouted. "Free-balling, come on! _Commando._"

"Let me just put it this way," Tucker muttered. "I felt less threatened when Tex was staring at just the sword."

"Huh, what?" Tex asked, looking up. "Oh uh… yeah, um… I was just admiring his… his _alien_… muscle structure."

"Yeah, one particular part of his muscle structure," Tucker pressed.

"Well," Tex scoffed. "That's just a matter of penis- I mean uh, opinion, opinion that's it."

"Smooth," Church sighed, rolling his eyes.

Caboose stared at Crunchbite utterly mortified. "You told me it was another arm!"

Crunchbite let out a howl of mirth and Andy chuckled too. "Hey Caboose, high five!"

"I don't want to do that anymore," Caboose moaned nauseously.

"Tucker, come here, I wanna talk to you for a second," Church muttered, taking his teal teammate aside. "Listen, just drop off this weapon and get back to Blue Base as fast as you can."

"What if I have to kill stuff, dude?" Tucker hissed nervously. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"Hey now, Tucker, I'm the same way," Church comforted, patting his teammate's shoulder. "That's why we get along so well. We're both just a couple of lovers."

Tucker took a step back. "That sounded kinda gay, dude."

"Yeah, it did," Church admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, I feel obligated to say something encouraging as your boss."

"Our Captain _died_. You're just the guy _pretending_ to be my boss."

"Well, you know, in our given situation, technically you could be seen as one of my employees."

"Except that I'm not."

"Oh, whatever. Listen I just… as, as someone in an employee/manager relationship-"

"Which doesn't exist."

Church let out an irritated groan.

"Why did you pull me aside again?" Tucker asked.

"You know," Church sighed. "I'm sure it was to say something inspiring or something, but now, I just don't care."

"I'm gonna go man," Tucker muttered.

He rejoined Caboose, Andy and Crunchbite as they set off into the plains, thus beginning the epic quest of the Acquaintanceship of the Sword. (**A.N: It's like the Fellowship of the Ring, but they're not that close.**)

"Hey lady, come on, hustle up!" Andy called to the two Spartans. "If you gotta use the bathroom, do it now because I'm not pulling over."

Church watched them go then he turned to Tex. "You know, I have to say I'm a little surprised that you're not going with them."

"Why?" Tex asked. "Quests are dangerous."

"Yeah," Church agreed, turning back to look at his disappearing teammates. "But they usually have some kind of big reward at the end, you know like some big treasure chest or… an entire room filled with gold and art. It's not really like you to pass up on something like that, Tex."

Tex didn't reply. "Tex?" Church asked again. "You're gone, aren't you?" He turned round and sure enough, Tex had also disappeared, leaving him alone on the beach. "I really should've seen that coming," he sighed.

Meanwhile, at Blood Gulch, Sheila had fired at the Base again and in the confusion, Simmons hustled Grif back to the Blue Base. Sarge watched the incident through the scope of his sniper rifle. "Well, this is a tough one," he muttered. "Simmons appears to have captured Grif, which means we're down a man and now that man has taken _Grif_ prisoner! So does that make us even? What's one plus a turd? Oh dammit, only Grif can screw up math?"

At the Blue Base, Simmons escorted his 'prisoner' towards the main entrance. "Hurry up, Grif."

"You know, Simmons, you don't make a very good hostage taker," Grif said, stopping by the door. "My _last_ prisoner experience was much cooler."

"What?" Simmons snapped.

"You haven't yelled at me _one time_," Grif replied.

"You're doing everything right," Simmons explained. "I think yelling should be reserved for only the most critical of situations, like when _someone_ drinks milk out of the carton!" he finished through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Simmons, I'm a prisoner," Grif moaned. "You should be jabbing me in the back with your gun and saying 'Get moving scum!'"

"Get going!" Simmons yelled, jabbing Grif in the back with his sniper rifle.

"Louder!" Grif egged on.

"I said move!" Simmons jabbed him again.

"Yeah-ha-ha, that's it!"

"Move it soldier!" Simmons thrust his gun in harder.

"OW!" Grif yelped. "Okay, seriously, that hurts!"

Simmons pushed Grif into the Base and herded him into a long, blue-lit passageway.

"Man, these guys really like blue lights," Grif muttered. "I mean, I know this is Blue Base and all, but come on. You don't have to beat us over the head with it."

"Get in the hole," Simmons commanded.

"You have a hole?" Grif looked round and spotted a glowing blue hole built into the floor of the passage. He peered down with an admiring whistle. "Whoa, now _that's_ cool. I take back everything I said; this is much creepier than my last time in the joint."

"Move!" Simmons yelled, pushing Grif in the back and almost making him stumble.

"Dude, if you keep doing that, this is gonna get old quick," Grif sighed.

"I said in the hole!" Simmons screamed, smacking Grif in the head.

"OW!" Grif yelped then he lost his balance and fell right into the hole.

"Who's the bad hostage taker now, bitch?" Simmons yelled down after him.

"Um, I think I found a design flaw in your hole," Grif said from behind him.

"What?" Simmons whirled round to see Grif standing in front of another hole built opposite to the first hole. "Get back in there!"

He shoved Grif back down the hole but the orange Spartan just shot out from the first hole behind him. "Woohoo! Look who's back."

"God this sucks," Simmons sighed, glancing between the two holes.

"Seriously dude, you have to try the hole," Grif chuckled. "It's really fun."

"Ugh, what're you doing?" Simmons yelled, pushing Grif backwards into the hole. "Get back down in there!"

"Wheee!" Grif yelled as he popped out from the other hole. "Look, I came out backwards this time!"

"You're supposed to- ARRRGGH!" Simmons growled. "You're the prisoner, stay down there!"

* * *

**And so it goes on. *sigh* I wish my place had a hole like that.**


	10. Setting a High Bar

**It's Episode 67 and our adventure still goes on.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Setting a High Bar

Several miles away from the complex, the Acquaintanceship of the Sword was still marching across the plains. Crunchbite led the way blarging and honking to the two Spartans while Andy, still being carried by the alien, translated.

"Hey, he's been explaining to me everything we should encounter," Andy said. "The legend's pretty old but the details are pretty clear."

"Listen dude, I don't care what you say," Tucker muttered angrily. "I'm not killing any monsters."

"Hey, don't interrupt!" Andy snapped. "It's hard enough to translate without you-"

"Oh, well," Tucker scowled, stopping in his tracks. "If this little quest depends on me killing stuff, we might as well just stop here."

"Oh, don't be a chicken," the bomb retorted.

"I'm not chicken, I'm just…" Tucker trailed off with a sigh. "Okay, I'm chicken."

Crunchbite tilted his head to one side and looked down at Andy. "Blargh? Blar blarg."

"Blargy blarg, blarg, blarg honk," Andy replied.

"Whaarrrgh hnk!"

"What's he saying?" Tucker asked.

"He wanted to know what a chicken is," Andy replied. "I told him it's this nasty little bird that humans eat, and you also eat the white things that shoot out of its butt."

Tucker grimaced in disgust. "You know, you could have cleaned that up a little bit."

"I did!" Andy protested. "They don't come out of its butt, you know."

"Hargh!" the alien growled.

"Yeah," Andy chuckled. "They're pretty disgusting."

"Chickens aren't _that_ bad," Tucker argued.

"He was talking about _you_ guys," Andy replied. "He's not a big fan, and I'm not either. Earth _sucks_."

As they set off again, Crunchbite let out a honk of agreement.

"Earth doesn't suck, Earth rules," Tucker scoffed. "We invented the telephone."

"Arg largh!" Crunchbite growled.

"He says _they_ invented the telephone," Andy translated. "_And_ they did it a thousand years before _you_ did."

"Oh yeah?" Tucker retorted. "Well, what'd they have to say on it, 'blarg blarg, honk honk'? Who the fuck wants to hear that?"

After another few miles, they made their way up a small ledge and Crunchbite held out a hand to halt the others. "Blarg honk."

"Okay," Andy said. "These are the Great Burning Plains we talked about."

Tucker and Caboose stared out at the plains before them. There were barely any features except for some broken boulders, burnt trees and, here and there some patches of scorched grass.

"They don't _look_ burning… they look burnt." Caboose then gasped. "Hey, I recognize this place."

"Get ready," Andy hissed to Tucker. "He's gonna distract the monster, and you use your heroic powers to swoop in-"

"Heroic powers?" Tucker interrupted.

"Yeah," Andy retorted. "You're the _big hero_ from that prophecy, ain't cha?"

"Oh, right." Tucker sighed as he drew out his sword and activated it. "Boy, are you guys gonna be disappointed."

"And don't forget," Andy added. "Go for the weak spot in the armor."

Tucker nodded. "Yeah and… where was that again?"

"We already went over this!" Andy snapped.

"Apparently, paying attention to lame biology lessons _isn't_ one of my superpowers," Tucker scowled.

"Blarg," Crunchbite growled.

"Be quiet!" Andy translated.

"Argh!"

"Get down!"

The two Spartans ducked behind the ledge as Crunchbite bowed his head and started growling to himself.

"He just wants a moment's peace before the plan fails and we all get killed," Andy translated.

"WHRRRRRRRRG!" the alien roared.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't supposed to translate that last part," Andy muttered. "Uh, he says, uh don't worry, _every_thing will be fine… Stick to the plan."

"Okay," Caboose gulped, loading a round of crayons into his battle rifle. "Are we adding 'get killed' to the _end_ of the plan?"

Crunchbite peeked over the ledge then he cried, "Blarg!" which Andy translated as "GO!"

With that, the Acquaintanceship leapt over the ridge and landed in the middle of the plain, weapons drawn, ready to face…

Nothing.

"Wurg!" Crunchbite growled in alarm.

"What happened?" Andy translated.

"To what?" Tucker asked.

"The big monster," Andy replied. "It's dead, look."

Crunchbite pointed to a large, long-horned skull lying in the scorched dust.

"_That_ thing?" Tucker scoffed. "You gotta be kidding me."

"You guys were here already?" Andy cried out in disbelief.

"Yes," Caboose replied. "Uh, before now."

"That's what _already_ means, Caboose," Tucker sighed.

"Oh, then just yes."

"Wharg whar?" Crunchbite growled.

"You already killed the monster?" Andy translated.

"Dude, that's a cow skull," Tucker replied nonchalantly. "I kill about ten of those things every time I eat lunch."

Meanwhile at Blood Gulch, Sarge stood on a hill just outside the Red Base, spying on the Blue Base through the scope of the sniper rifle.

Donut then came out of the base and went up to his leader. "How's it going, Sarge?"

Sarge lowered the sniper with a sigh and turned to face Donut. "Well, Simmons has had Grif prisoner in there for _far_ too long. He's probably subjecting him to _all manner_ of unbearable torture! I figure in just a matter of hours, Grif's spirit will be has broken as his body, unable to cope with the never ending stimulation of pain and horror…" Then he smiled. "But in answer to your question, things are fine! Could be a little warmer, but I can't complain."

"But Sarge, aren't you afraid he'll give away valuable information?"

"Why would Simmons give Grif information?"

"No, I mean what if Grif tells _Simmons_ valuable information about our operations?" Donut then realized what he had just said. "Yeah, that sounded smarter before I said it."

"I bet," Sarge muttered.

"Speaking of operations though," Donut said, "remember how I told you I wanted to incorporate more positive reinforcement techniques in review sessions?"

"Donut, for the last time," Sarge groaned, placing a hand over his visor, "me calling you a worthless turd is not a review session!"

"And," Donut continued. "Remember how you said any proposals had to be submitted in hand-written triplicate, with no less than one hundred pages?"

"Yes, which would take weeks to-" Sarge trailed off with a sigh. "You're finished, aren't you?"

"Only if calligraphy's okay." Donut held up a dossier as thick as a textbook. "And I dotted all the I's with hearts. Tee-hee-hee!"

Sarge let out an exasperated groan.

"Let me just give you a little teaser on some of the changes," Donut said, pulling out a page. "Think 'mauve'…"

"Aw, Donut!" Sarge yelled, stamping his foot in the grass.

"What, you don't like it?" Donut asked baffled. "Mauve is a form of red."

"No, it's not that," Sarge sighed. "I just realized that my only way out of this situation is to launch a rescue mission to save Grif! I got me one of them, uh…" He snapped his fingers as he tried to find the word. "Donut, what's a fancy word for choosin' between two things you don't wanna do?"

Donut thought for a moment. "Uh… conundrum? Dilemma? A threesome with cheerleaders?"

Sarge rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go with conundrum."

* * *

**It's actually dilemma, but threesome with cheerleaders has a ring.**


	11. Getting All Misty

**Here's Episode 68 and we continue with Sarge's rescue mission.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Getting All Misty

After a long ponder over his 'conundrum', Sarge just decided to go ahead with rescuing Grif so he and Donut drove the Warthog Mk 2 to the other side of the canyon and were now hiding behind a large boulder outside the Blue Base. Sarge kept an eye out for trouble but Donut was still giving the ideas he'd written in his dossier.

"If you don't like the plants idea," the pink private was saying, "how do ya feel about a fountain in the armory? That place is so _gloomy_."

"Come on, Donut, give it a rest already," Sarge groaned. "I agreed to let you use Grif's helmet as a decorative birdbath, didn't I? Don't oversell."

"Okay," Donut conceded. "But I have just one more idea. I'm gonna say two words and then walk away." He cleared his throat. "Chantilly, lace."

Sarge stared silently for a moment. "Unless you're about to start singing a Big Bopper song, I think the best part of that idea was the walking away."

"Let it simmer," Donut reassured.

Cautiously, Sarge peeked around the side of the rock and took another look round before ducking back. "Hmmm, no sign of any defenses… I think we might be catching Simmons at a weak moment."

Donut nodded in agreement as he glanced around his side of the rock. "Hmmm, no sign of the tank either."

"Dear God, the madness is spreading!" Sarge gasped. "It's only a matter of time before it takes me!"

Just then, from the doorway of the Base came a loud cry. "Wheeeeeee!"

"Did you hear that?" Donut breathed. "It's sounds like they're having _fun_ in there."

Sarge shook his head in dismay. "Clearly Grif has become _so stupid_, he's mixed up the yells for pain and happiness! Simmons must be doing _absolutely __**diabolical**_ things to him! Let's give him a few more hours to see if he escapes on his own."

He and Donut peeked round and waited for a few seconds then Grif's voice rang out again. "Simmons, I am having a blast going in and out of your hole!"

"Grif, just stay down there like you're told," Simmons yelled.

"Well, that's my cue," Donut decided. "Let's go!"

Sarge nodded in agreement and they ran out from behind the boulder and into the Base, unaware of the cobalt-blue armored figure watching them from the hill…

Inside the Base, Simmons had grown tired of pushing Grif into the holes but Grif was now making his own fun, jumping into one hole, popping out the other hole and then running to the first one again.

"Grif, stop it!" Simmons yelled impatiently. "I need your help."

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Grif called as he leapt into the hole again.

"Will you stop riding that stupid grav lift?" Simmons scowled.

"I can do both at once," Grif replied, emerging from the other hole. "And why don't we have one of these things?"

Simmons put out a hand and stopped Grif in his tracks. "Listen, the tank's been making upgrades to the base over the last few hundred years."

"How did it do that without any tools, or arms?" Grif asked puzzled.

"I don't know," Simmons admitted. "A lot of what she says doesn't match up. I think she might be lying to me."

"You think the enemy's weapons are _lying_ to us? _What a surprise_." Grif then turned round and jumped down into the second hole.

"It seems like a setup," Simmons agreed, turning to look down the passage. "I just can't figure out how."

Behind him, Sarge crept up to the hole and as Grif popped out, he was knocked out with a punch to the face and fell back down again, this time not coming out the other side.

"I don't know," Simmons muttered. "If I can piece it together, maybe that'll help fix things with…" His voice trailed off as he turned round and saw his former superior officer pointing a shotgun to his head. "Sarge!?"

"Hello, Simmons," Sarge growled in an unfriendly manner.

Simmons looked around in worry. "Where's Grif?"

"Well, this here's a rescue operation," Sarge explained. "He's unconscious down below, being prepped for evac."

"If it's a rescue operation, why did you knock him out?" Simmons asked.

Sarge just shrugged. "Well, all work and no play, you know heh heh heh."

"That's dumb."

"I think you know the proper procedure for submitting complaints, Simmons."

Simmons nodded with a sigh. "I'll get my calligraphy pens."

"Don't bother," Sarge snapped, cocking the shotgun and aiming right for Simmons' visor. "I think you also know how we treat traitors on Red Team!"

Simmons gulped in alarm as he slowly raised his hands above his head. "I'm guessing you're not cocking that gun to give me a one gun salute in honor of my new promotion."

"I don't think so," Sarge growled. "Simmons, just remember, this hurts me more than it hurts you."

"I seriously doubt that, Sir."

"Well, it hurts me almost as much as it hurts you."

"I don't buy that either."

"Well, I _am_ the one who has to clean the shotgun later, and the solvents smell so-"

"BOOYA!" _WHAP!_ A heavy thud rang out and Sarge collapsed to the ground with a painful groan.

"Ooh, the back of your head," Simmons winced then he looked up to see who had rescued him.

"Well, that was close," Church sighed, lowering the sniper rifle he'd used to knock out Sarge. "I've always wanted to say 'booya' too, that was awesome… Booyeah!"

"Where the hell did _you_ come from?" Simmons cried out.

"Huh?" Church looked round at the soldier in blue armor standing before him. "Oh, you must be one of the _new_ Blues that took over the Base after we left." He put away his rifle and held up his hands to show he meant no harm. "Listen, don't be afraid, but I'm from the past."

"Why would I be afraid of someone from the _past_?" Simmons scoffed. "People from the _future_ are scary. People from the _past_ are savages and idiots."

Church was about to take offense when Sarge suddenly let out another groan. "Ohhhh, what the…? What hit me?"

"Hurry, quick, before he wakes up," Simmons hissed, grabbing Sarge's arms. "Help me get this guy in the hole."

"We have a hole?" Church looked round then peered down the hole with a whistle of admiration. "That's kickass!"

Meanwhile, several hundred miles away, the Acquaintanceship of the Sword had left the Burning Plains and was now passing through some _very_ soggy plains indeed.

"Alright, this is the Great Swamp," Andy explained as Crunchbite carried him. "We can rest here a while before we move on."

"Yeah, let's rest in a swamp," Tucker agreed nonchalantly. "That makes sense."

"Save your energy, Tucker," Andy advised. "You're gonna need it."

"Aw, screw that," Tucker retorted with a dismissive wave. "So far, this quest is a fuckin' breeze. I've already killed a dead monster. What's next, we're gonna open an unlocked door, or rescue a princess from herself?"

Crunchbite then turned to look at Caboose and Andy noticed the blue Spartan was looking back the way they'd come. "Hey Caboose, what's wrong?"

"I think something is following us," Caboose whispered.

Andy watched for a moment then he spotted movement among the mangroves. "Yeah, it's been on us since we left. Part of the prophecy talks about something _evil_ that tries to take the Great Weapon."

"You mean my awesome dead monster killing weapon?" Tucker took out his sword then he shrugged. "It can have it."

"It's attracted to it," Andy continued. "It _can't_ live without it."

"That doesn't sound good," Tucker muttered. "Hey Caboose, come here and hold my sword."

"It's okay, we got a plan," Andy reassured. "We can make camp and then we'll tell ya about it."

"I _love_ camping!" Caboose cheered as they set off again.

Sometime later, the group stopped in a clearing in the swamp and soon Tucker was lying fast asleep, clutching the deactivated sword to his chest and snoring loudly. But then a loud rustling noise woke him up and he sat up in surprise. "Hmm, what?"

He then looked round and realized he was completely alone. "Hey, guys? Andy? Caboose? Alien thing?"

The rustling grew louder and Tucker whirled round in fright to see a dark shadowy figure approaching from the swamp. "Guys?" he whimpered pathetically. "Anybody?"

"Now, Caboose!" Andy's voice called out.

And suddenly with a loud ear-splitting roar, Crunchbite burst out from the bushes behind Tucker and pounced on the figure, sending them both tumbling into the mud.

"We got it!" Andy cheered.

Tucker looked round and saw Caboose peeking out from behind a tree. "Is it safe to come out yet?"

"Caboose, you were _supposed_ to help," Andy's voice yelled from the bushes.

"I was helping watch," Caboose retorted, picking up Andy and stepping out of the bushes.

"What if something had happened?"

"I'm sure I would have seen it."

"Hey, what the hell?" Tucker shouted, getting to his feet. "Where did you guys go?"

"We laid a trap," Andy said simply.

"A trap?" Tucker cried out. "You left me all alone!"

Andy chuckled. "Well, you can't have a trap without _bait!_"

Tucker was stunned. "I was the bait?"

"I thought you did a _very_ good job," Caboose replied.

Just then, Crunchbite emerged from the swamp, covered in mud and dragging the figure along with him. Then the figure pulled itself away with a cry. "Get _off_ of me, you stinky idiot!"

Tucker whirled round at the familiar voice and as he did, he caught a glimmer of moonlight on a small blue ice diamond ring on a chain round the figure's neck. Then the figure stood up and Tucker gasped. "Tex?"

"Well, _this_ is some greeting," Tex scowled indignantly, wiping mud and slime from her armor. "I come to help you guys and ya _ambush_ me!"

"You weren't coming to help," Andy argued. "You were coming to steal the sword!"

"No I wasn't," Tex retorted, folding her arms. "I was coming to steal the reward."

"There _is_ no reward," the bomb yelled. "The reward is the sword."

"Oh," Tex replied. "Then… yeah, I guess I'm here to steal the sword."

"Hurn, blarr," Crunchbite added.

"Oh yeah, and also the salvation and emancipation of his species for all eternity," Andy translated.

Tex rubbed her chin in thought. "Tell you what, I'll go fifty-fifty. You keep the emancipation and I'll keep the sword."

Crunchbite nodded with a "Honk!"

"Deal," Andy put in.

"What do I get?" Tucker asked.

"You get to live," Tex replied, "but no guarantees."

"That's not a reward for _me_," Tucker retorted. "That's a reward for all the fine ladies in the Universe."

Tex raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm a woman, and somehow… I don't _feel_ any luckier."

"I said _fine_ ladies," Tucker scowled and was punched in the face for that.

"What do you want, Caboose?" Andy asked.

Caboose thought for a moment. "I want a pony."

* * *

**If you're asking for things you want, then I'd like a million bucks.**


	12. Talk of the Town

**It's Episode 69 and… again I don't know what to put here.**

_**Tucker**_**: Bow chicka bow wow.**

**Thank you, Tucker. Now back to the story.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Talk of the Town

In the Blue Base, Church struggled to drag the unconscious Sarge down the passage. "Man, Sarge is frickin' heavy," he grunted to himself. "Hey, blue guy, where'd you go? I need some help."

Outside, Simmons heard the shouts then turned to the nervous pink private standing next to the out-cold Grif. "Listen Donut," he whispered. "Church thinks I'm a Blue guy, so whatever you do, just pretend like you don't know me."

"I _don't_ know you," Donut muttered.

"Yeah, just like that," Simmons nodded. "Good job."

"No, I'm serious," Donut insisted. "I have _no idea_ who you are."

At that moment, Church emerged from the Base, still dragging Sarge.

"Okay, stop practicing," Simmons hissed. "Here he comes."

"So does that mean you're _not_ going to tell me who you are?" Donut asked.

"Okay, that's a little too far," Simmons sighed. "No one's gonna buy that."

Just then, Church reached them and lowered Sarge down. "Phew," he panted with a glare at Simmons. "You know, I could have used your help, blue guy. Thanks."

Simmons raised his sniper rifle at Donut and spoke in a strange Kermit the Frog-ish voice. "I was just securing this guy, which is interesting considering that I have never met him before."

"Why is it interesting?" Church asked.

"Um, I don't know," Simmons replied.

"Is something wrong with your voice?" Church asked.

"Oh," Simmons coughed and then said in his normal voice, "I was just disguising it, so the prisoner wouldn't think he knew me."

"What?" Donut cried out.

"But he doesn't," Simmons reassured. "Do you, prisoner?"

"Uh, no," Donut whimpered.

"Right," Simmons agreed, adding in a whisper, "Good job, Donut."

"Wait, is this some really weird form of torture?" Donut asked.

Church ignored Donut as he thought about what the 'blue guy' said then he shrugged. "Well, okay. Help me load these guys in the jeep before they wake up."

"Okay," Simmons said with a salute then he whispered, "Donut, grab the ankles."

"Okie-dokie," Donut murmured and he quickly obeyed. "How's this?"

"_Sarge's_ ankles, Donut," Simmons hissed irritably.

Meanwhile, some distance away, the Acquaintanceship of the Sword (plus one) had left the Great Swamp and was now making their way through a long tunnel in the mountains.

"Step it up guys, we're almost there," Andy called back as Crunchbite led the way.

At the back, Tucker looked at Tex and Caboose with worry. "I'm tellin' you, the alien has really been creepin' me out lately. Every time I wake up, he's hovering over me. It's really weird."

"I'm sure he's just safeguarding his sword- I mean, my sword," Tex reasoned.

"Maybe he just wants to steal your breath," Caboose added.

"Maybe he's trying to figure out what I taste like," Tucker said with a shudder.

"Hurry up, ya idiots!" Andy called out from the tunnel exit.

Caboose and Tex ran on ahead but as Tucker made to follow them, he suddenly felt a pain in his stomach, but he quickly dismissed it as hunger pangs which made sense since they hadn't brought any food with them. As he approached the others, he shivered again. "Man, did it get a lot colder all of a sudden?"

"Of course it did," Andy replied. "They don't call it the Great Freezin' Plains for nothin'."

Tucker came out the tunnel next to Caboose and gasped in amazement. "Whoa…"

They were standing on a ledge overlooking a vast snowy area that reminded Tucker of Sidewinder, and there, clinging to the side of a mountain like a great crouching beast was a huge building surrounded by some very tough-looking walls.

"I'm just glad I brought my mittens," Caboose said.

"The snow is the least of our problems," Tex murmured, peering at the scene through the scope on her sniper rifle.

"Why?" Andy asked.

"I assume we have to get into that big temple base thing?" Tex guessed.

"Yeah," Andy replied, unsure of where this was going.

"Well…" Tex pointed to the building and now Tucker could see several figures, some red and some blue, marching along the sides. "It's got about two dozen _guards_ on its walls."

"Oh no," Caboose gasped.

"Yep," Tex agreed. "It doesn't look good."

"No no no, I mean I lost one of my mittens," Caboose said. "Um, we have to go back."

"Caboose, we've been walking for days," Tucker snapped. "We're not going back for anything."

"Any suggestions, Andy?" Tex asked.

"Hmmm," Andy muttered. "I say we let Tucker storm in and take them out in a mad rush, and while _he's_ got them distracted, _we_ finish the quest."

Tucker gulped in fear. "On second thought, personal warmth is very important. Let's go get that mitten! It'll be like a mini-quest."

"I think _surprise_ is the key," Tex decided.

"What ya thinking?" Andy asked.

"Let me take them out, one by one," Tex explained. "They will _never_ know what hit them."

"You think you can kill them all without alerting the others?"

"Just watch me." With a sly smile, Tex pressed a button on her left wrist and disappeared.

"How can I watch ya?" Andy snorted. "You just turned invisible."

"And yet I was still able to check out her ass," Tucker put in smoothly. "That's why I'm a pro." He received an invisible slap from Tex for that.

Back at Blood Gulch, Simmons drove the Warthog Mk 2 back towards the Red Base while Church sat in the back with the unconscious Grif and Sarge, and Donut jogged along behind them. Soon they stopped twenty feet from the Base and while Simmons unloaded his former comrades, Church took the pink private aside for a quick negotiation.

"Okay Donut," the Blue leader hissed. "Wait until we're gone and then you can wake 'em up."

"Well, what do I tell them?" Donut asked.

"I don't care," Church replied with a shrug. "Tell 'em you busted in and rescued them. Get yourself a medal, you deserve it."

Donut chuckled at the idea. "I always _did_ want to be a hero, and a liar."

"Well then, it's your lucky day," Church laughed.

"Don't you want anything?"

"Like what?"

"Well, every time someone surrenders, they take something, like when we took the medic and you guys took Grif's dignity."

"Yeah, like _that_ ever existed," Simmons scoffed before correcting himself. "Uh I mean, which one is Grif? Is he the yellow one?"

"And this time you guys don't want anything?" Donut asked.

"Well, technically, you're not surrendering," Church replied. "This is what we call in the Military a 'total asskicking'. **(Air-quote) **Oh, and also, we're taking your car."

"What?" Donut cried out. "You're leaving us out here, without any transportation? We'll _die_!"

"Die of what?" Church asked bemused.

"_Exposure!_ We're stranded!" Donut glared at the Blue. "This is murder."

"Your Base is right there," Church assured, pointing over the pink private's shoulder. "I can see it."

But Donut didn't look round. "You may as well just feed us to the buzzards right now."

Church sighed. "You could have walked back to the Base in the time we've been discussing this."

"Go," Donut snapped, turning away and folding his arms. "Just sign our death warrants."

Church was starting to lose his patience when he suddenly heard Sarge groan behind him, "Ohhh, what's goin' on?"

"Hey, take care of that guy," Church commanded his 'new teammate'.

Simmons nodded and knelt next to Sarge. "Sorry about this, Sarge," he whispered, slowly raising his fist. "But look at it this way, you were right; this _does_ hurt you more than me."

Sarge looked up at this. "Is that you, Simmo-" But he got no further as Simmons punched him in the face. "Ohh, knocked out again."

* * *

***winces* Ooh, he's gonna feel that in the morning.**


	13. Sneaking In

**Episode 70 and we're back on the stealth move on the temple place, so be quiet!**

* * *

Chapter 13: Sneaking In

In the Freezing Plains of Blarganthia, the Acquaintanceship of the Sword waited for Tex to make her move on the guards. Then as the winds picked up, Tucker could hear familiar voices being blown up from the temple:

"Hey Reds! We're guarding the shit out of this wall. You suck!"

"Your wall's easy to guard, try ours."

"You don't even have a roof up there, you suck! What're you guarding it from, birds?"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"You suck!"

"No _you do!_"

"We suck! No, you suck!"

"Okay, never mind."

"You suck!"

"Oh, _those_ guys?" Tucker groaned as he recognized the figures as the soldiers from Battle Creek. "How did _they_ get here?"

"Shhhh," Caboose hissed. "Tex told us to be quiet."

"Caboose, we're three hundred yards away," Tucker sighed. "I don't think they heard us."

"I think I hear something," a Red soldier called out.

Tucker glanced at the wall nervously. "I'm sure that was just a coincidence."

Crunchbite then let out a low growl and pointed at the temple. Tucker and Caboose looked round and spotted an uncloaked Tex sneaking along the wall towards three of the guards, two Blue and one Red.

"Alright," Andy whispered. "After she takes those three out one by one, we probably stand a chance."

Just then, Tex pounced on the nearest Blue guard and started beating the living hell out of him.

"Ow, what the fuck!" the Blue screamed. "That hurt, ow! _Stop it!_"

"Or maybe not," Andy finished grimly.

"Uh oh," Tucker gasped as he realized how close Tex was to the other two guards.

But neither of them seemed to notice their colleague/rival getting pounded.

"So, did you watch the game last night?" the Blue guard sighed.

"Yeah," the Red replied. "Go Red."

"Fuck that," the Blue retorted. "Red sucks."

"Now you're shooting me!" the first Blue yelled as Tex fired her pistol at him repeatedly. "Give me a break, this sucks! What the fuck did I ever do to you? COME ONNNN!"

"What the fuck?" Tucker cried out. "Are they deaf?"

In answer, a sniper bullet whizzed past his shoulder, making him flinch. "Oh right, _that_ you heard?"

And that's when the siege began!

Tex flung a plasma grenade at a nearby turret, blowing the Blue soldier in charge back.

"Huh?" The other soldiers whirled round as Tex snatched up the dead soldiers' machine guns and turned towards them with a smile.

"Hiya, fellas," she beamed, holding a gun in each hand. "Who's next?"

The soldiers glanced at each other then ran straight at her. "CHAAARRRGE!"

But Tex fired her guns at them, mowing them down and thus retaining her level of badass-ness.

"_That_ went well," Tucker sighed, leading the others down the mountain towards the temple. "So much for a sneak attack."

Meanwhile at Blood Gulch, Sarge and Grif had woken up to find themselves back at the Red Base and Donut quickly went through the elaborate tall tale he'd thought up while they were unconscious.

"…And that's how I rescued you both and saved the day, the end," Donut finished. "Any questions?"

Grif scratched his head in bemusement. "Donut, that was the longest story I have ever heard, and I don't think I believed a word of it."

Sarge nodded in agreement. "And quite frankly, I found the show tune in the middle to be a little over the top."

"Every word is _absolutely true_," Donut reassured. "It was the best military operation that you two ever slept through."

"If everything went so well, then where's our jeep?" Grif pointed out.

"Well, I have a song I'd like to sing about that," Donut offered.

"Oh, forget it," Grif groaned.

At that moment, in the middle of the canyon, Church was watching the Reds through the sniper scope and giving his 'new teammate' a run-through of what he was up against.

"Okay, that red one? That's Sarge," Church explained. "He's their leader, which is lucky for us because… well he's not that good a leader."

"Okay," Simmons nodded in false understanding.

"And the one next to him is Donut," Church continued. "I like Donut, he's pretty harmless. I don't think he'd hurt a fly."

"Yeah," Simmons agreed. "Plus he's a little…"

"A little what?" Church asked curiously.

"Oh you know."

"No, I-I don't know."

"You know," Simmons coaxed. "He's kinda in to, girly stuff like… uh, feelings and… oh, you know."

Church frowned at him. "Uh, I think you might be… projecting there."

"I'm not projecting," Simmons argued. "I'm just stating an observation."

"I don't know, man," Church replied slowly. "You seem pretty defensive for somebody who's not projecting."

"His armor is pink."

"_Pink?_ I wouldn't say pink, maybe… you know, slightly less red, but-"

"It's pink, trust me," Simmons interrupted. "I know pink when I see it."

"Yeah, I bet," Church muttered suspiciously. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No!"

Church shrugged and returned to the introductions. "And last is the orange one, that's Grif. He's really lazy and really annoying."

"Yeah," Simmons agreed.

"But at least he's smart," Church continued. "In fact, I think he might be the smartest one of the bunch."

"You mean smarter than all of the ones there now," Simmons chortled.

"No, I mean all of them put together, man," Church argued. "There's this other guy, who hangs around, in maroon armor. I haven't seen him in a while but he's a freaking know-it-all. He _acts_ like he's smart, but he's really not."

Simmons' laughter cut off then. "What?"

"Yeah," Church replied. "He walks around like he owns the place and he, you know, but nobody listens to him and they always make fun of him behind his back."

Simmons stared in stunned silence. "What… do they say?"

Church gave a shrug. "Oh, just how he's not good at stuff, and how he's dumb, and how the stuff he likes is dumb, and also that, you know, he's not as attractive as other people are."

Simmons let out a loud sniff. "Man, he sounds like a real jerk…"

Then he gave a loud sob and ran towards the Blue Base.

"Hey, where are you going?" Church called out.

"I have to use the bathroom," Simmons bawled back.

"Well, hurry up, man," Church shouted. "I wanna finish your orientation before you have to make me dinner."

At that moment, Sheila drove up, watching the blue-painted Spartan run off before turning her turret to look at Church. "You do know that's Simmons, right?"

Church chuckled to himself as he nodded. "Oh yeah."

* * *

**Oh come on, you didn't really think Church was fooled, did ya?**


	14. You Keep Using that Word

**It's the end of the road for the Acquaintanceship of the Sword in Episode 71. But first, we're still with Church and Sheila.**

* * *

Chapter 14: You Keep Using That Word

While he waited for Simmons to come back, Church took a moment to look at the two vehicles he had taken from the Reds, the Warthog Mk 2 and Donut's hover-scooter.

"Look at this, Sheila," he breathed to the tank behind him. "This is a thing of beauty, what I have here. I am amazed."

"Whatever," Sheila sighed, swiveling her turret in the tank equivalent of rolling her eyes.

"We have got every single vehicle in this canyon," Church chuckled. "We are unstoppable. This is- I have my own fleet. I have my own fleet of cars!"

"Three vehicles and only one guy to drive them," Sheila muttered. "Big deal."

"No, the _important_ thing is that they don't have any vehicles to…" Church trailed off and turned to face Sheila. "Hey, is there a problem here?"

"Problem?" Sheila asked in the manner of a cross housewife. "Why would there be a problem?"

"Uh, I don't know," Church replied with an unsure shrug. "You just seem, uh you know, agitated."

Sheila turned her turret at him. "You think I'm agitated."

"Well, I didn't mean, uh," Church stammered. "I-I didn't uh-"

"No, it was your word," Sheila interrupted. "Agitated… You said 'You sure seem agitated, Sheila.' So I guess this means I'm agitated. Don't I _seem_ agitated, Church?"

Church took a nervous step back. "I'm- I'm just saying you seem a little… upset."

"Oh, so now I'm _upset_," Sheila snapped, rolling closer to him. "Which is it, Church? Am I agitated or upset?"

"I don't- I mean I don't really," Church mumbled nervously. "I could get a dictionary."

"Why would I be upset?" Sheila demanded.

Church gulped, frightened that if he wasn't too careful, he was about to lose another good body. "Uh, I don't-"

"Well," Sheila cut in, turning her turret away in a huff. "Would you be upset if I got a bunch more Blue guys to come hang around and help me?"

"Well, actually," Church muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "there are… three other guys on the squad."

"Exactly! This isn't a parking lot, Church. It's a team, a family. Are we just supposed to _forget_ everything we've been through?"

"Right, including the time that you killed me!"

"How about if I suddenly decided I wasn't the Blue Team's tank? What if today I'm feeling just a little bit Red?"

"They're just cars, Sheila."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," Sheila grunted, turning her turret away.

Church stepped closer to the cabin. "Hey, is there like a… jealousy setting somewhere on you that I can, you know, turn off?"

Sheila rolled a few feet away from him. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Meanwhile, in the Freezing Plains, Tex was clearing away the last of the guards so Crunchbite led Caboose and Tucker along the side of the walls. As Tucker followed his teammate, he felt another pain in his stomach, this one stronger than the last, but before he could dwell on the matter, he heard Crunchbite calling out and he rejoined the others by a holographic lock next to a massive door.

"Tucker, use the key and open the gate!" Andy yelled.

"Key? What key?" Tucker asked. "I don't have a key!"

"Wharrh!" Crunchbite roared.

"Your sword!" Andy translated. "Use the sword!"

"Oh God, the sword is a _key?_" Tucker cried out, switching on the sword. "Just when I thought this couldn't get any lamer…"

He thrust the sword into the lock and gave it a twist. At once the door slid slowly open… to reveal a strange plane-like vehicle, big enough for one being to fly it.

"What is that thing?" Tucker asked in amazement.

Suddenly Crunchbite dropped Andy into the snow and ran towards the vehicle, blarging all the way.

"The ship!?" Andy cried out. "What ship? _No-one told me about a ship!_"

But Crunchbite gave no reply as he leapt into the ship, switched it on, took to the air and flew off towards the mountains.

"Hey, come back here, ya stink-nugget!" Andy yelled.

At that moment, Tex showed up, staring at the ship in stunned silence. "Hey, what's that thing!? Where's he going?"

"I don't know!" Andy shouted. "He just kept saying 'There it is, there it is!'"

Tex glowered down at the bomb. "I thought _you_ said there was no reward at the end of the quest."

"I didn't know!" Andy protested.

"If you're pissed about that," Tucker said, "wait until you find out that this sword is really a key."

"A what?" Tex screamed. "_Andy…_"

"Hey, don't blame me," Andy argued. "I'm just the translator!"

Caboose however was staring up in the sky. "Um, I think the alien is coming back."

Tex and Tucker looked up and saw that Crunchbite had turned the ship round and was now facing them… with a large blaster protuding underneath pointed right at them.

"Uh oh," Tucker gulped.

"Bad alien, go away!" Caboose yelled out.

"Get down!" Tex pushed the two Blues down into the snow… just as, behind them, a lone red Battle Creek soldier raised his gun towards them.

"What?" he cried, looking up. "Uh oh…"

Seconds later, the blaster fired and the Red guy was thrown back into the wall by the explosion and slumped to the ground, breathing his last. "Hurk, bleah…"

Caboose lifted his head and looked round. "Ohhh, he wasn't coming to kill us, he was saving us." He looked up and gave Crunchbite a grateful nod. "That's a good alien."

"Well, a deal's a deal, he owes _me_ that ship," Tex sighed, getting up and dusting the snow off her armor. "Andy, tell him to bring that thing down here and-"

But before she could finish, a rocket suddenly slammed into the ship's side and Crunchbite let out a roar of dismay before his vehicle crashed back down by the temple, killing him on impact.

"You still want me to tell him?" Andy murmured. "Because, I think it's down already."

"Tex!" a loud, British voice called out.

Tex whirled round and spotted a Spartan in armor as white as the snow standing on the highest wall, holding a smoking rocket-launcher in his arms. "Wyoming!?"

"Connecticut!" Caboose put in.

"They're not playing a game, Caboose," Tucker scowled.

"Well, if they were, I would have totally won," Caboose muttered sulkily.

"Well, it appears I've spoiled your little game," Wyoming called down. "So sorry, chums!"

"That was my ship!" Tex snapped.

"Oh dear. Then I stand corrected: I'm _not_ sorry."

Tex clenched her fist in anger. "You're gonna pay for that."

"All out of change at the moment," Wyoming replied. "Get you next time. Cheerio!" And he leapt over the wall and ran off.

"Get back here!" Tex yelled, running off after him.

Tucker watched her go then he stood up and wiped the snow off his armor. "Huh, that didn't go quite the way I expected," he muttered. "You think we should wait for her to come back, or finish the quest on our own? Or just go home…"

Right on cue, a trumpeting noise came up, followed by some shouts. "Charge!"

"Yeah, let's go home," Tucker decided.

Caboose nodded in agreement, grabbed Andy and they all ran back the way they'd come, putting an end to their long, dreary quest.

Back at the Blue Base in Blood Gulch, Church decided to give Sheila some space and made his way down the passages just as Simmons came out of the bathroom. "You okay there, blue guy?"

"I'm fine," Simmons sniffed, placing a hand over his visor so Church couldn't see the tearstains on his cheeks. "I-I told you it's just allergies."

"Oh yeah?" Church replied, folding his arms. "You know, I never heard someone say 'boo hoo hoo' when they sneezed."

"I'm fine," Simmons repeated through gritted teeth.

"Good," Church said. "Well then, now I can give you your duties. Um, first of all, that jeep out there is really dirty and I think that-"

"What?" Simmons cried out. "Why are you giving me orders?"

"Uh, because that's the way the Blue Team works," Church replied as if it was obvious.

"Technically, _you're_ the new guy," Simmons argued. "I should be telling _you_ what to do."

"Uh, I don't think so, man," Church retorted. "You see, back in the day, the way this worked was Command would call _me_ and give _me_ the orders and then I would pass them along to everybody else."

Simmons stared at him in disbelief and Church sighed. "Okay, it works like this…"

He switched on the long-distance radio com-link in his helmet to demonstrate. "I would get on my radio like this and I'd say uh, 'Come in, Blue Command, come in, this is Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha, do you read me?' and then normally this really annoying guy would come back and he would say-"

"Hello, hello, come in, hello."

"Wow, that was a pretty good impression," Simmons gasped in amazement. "Can you do Arnold Schwarzenegger? 'Ah'll be bahck.'"

"That wasn't me," Church muttered then he got back on the radio. "Uh, hello?"

"Hello, come in Blood Gulch, can you hear me?" the voice on the radio replied. "Hello, try the veal, hello."

"What?" Church gasped. "V-Vic, is that you? It's been eight hundred years, how have you survived so long?"

"No, no, hey dude, Vic's dead," the voice replied. "This is Vic's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson… Vic Junior."

"Asta la vista, baby!" Simmons continued his Arnie impersonations.

"Shut up, dude, I'm on the radio," Church hissed before turning back to his radio. "And you-you work with Blue Command?"

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, right dude," Vic Jr. chuckled. "Good one, dude. Heh, 'Blue Command.' _Wink!_"

"Wait a minute, what does that mean?" Church cried out. "Does- Is the war over? Did we win?"

Vic Jr. let out a sigh. "Dude, I got a lot to catch you up on."

* * *

**And that will have to wait for another time.**


	15. Getting Debriefed

**It's Episode 72 and things are slowly getting back to normal.**

* * *

Chapter 15: Getting Debriefed

At the Red Base, Grif left Donut to guard the entrance and made his way down to the flag room where Sarge was waiting for him. "You wanted to see me, Sarge?"

"Yes, Grif," the Red leader replied with a solemn nod. "I think it's time we buried the hatchet and started working more closely together."

"Say what? Isn't that like a sign of the apocalypse or something?" Grif glanced out through the broken skylight to check that the sky wasn't falling.

"As you know, I've _never_ liked you, not even a little bit."

"Really."

"You've always been lazy, insubordinate and I suspect that underneath that helmet, you're probably extremely ugly to boot!"

"No argument there," Grif agreed with a shrug.

"Over the years, I've been so disappointed in your work I've slowly stopped giving you things to do. Most days, I forgot you even existed."

"Yeah, it's been a good run."

"But I think we all need to realize that Simmons is not coming back. Red Team is just gonna have to make due with the few worthless soldiers we have left."

Grif frowned. "Wait, didn't this start out as a pep talk?"

Sarge let out a rueful sigh. "We may never know why Simmons left…"

"Yeah," Grif muttered. "Maybe he was overwhelmed by all the positive reinforcement you give out."

"But the fact of the matter is we're at war!" Sarge yelled, slamming his fist into his hand. "If we're gonna win this thing, we need to work together! We need to put aside our _disgusting_ laziness and our constant attempts to kill each other in our sleep."

"I've never tried to kill you in your sleep," Grif said.

"Dammit Grif, this is a compromise," Sarge snapped. "I realize I'm gonna have to give up some things as well."

What Sarge didn't know was that Simmons _was_ coming back. After overhearing the conversation between Church and Vic Junior, he had left the Blue Base and raced across the canyon to the Red Base. He stopped by a rock to catch his breath then made his way to the entrance but then a shot rang out and he jumped back as a bullet missed his feet by inches.

"Halt!" Donut called out from the roof, holding a pistol in his hands. "Who goes there?"

"Donut, it's me," Simmons shouted.

"Oh right, you," Donut scowled. "What do _you_ want?"

"I wanna talk to Sarge, I just found out some info about-" Simmons stopped. "Wait, why am I answering _your_ questions?"

He stepped forward but Donut pointed his pistol up. "I said hold it!"

"What's your problem, Donut?"

"Sarge told me not to let anyone in the base, and I'm pretty sure 'anyone' includes the enemy."

"I'm not the enemy."

"Oh please, you're dressed in blue!" Donut pointed out. "FYI, there's kind of a theme around here. You're blue and I'm red."

"More like pink," Simmons sniggered.

"I have a gun!" Donut yelled with his finger on the trigger.

"Okay, okay." Simmons raised his hands to show he meant no harm. "I only dressed like this to trick the Blues."

"You _helped_ the Blues."

"And fooled them."

"You knocked Sarge out, twice!"

"Once again Donut, to fool the Blues… and to work out some unresolved issues with father figures, but look, just go ask Sarge, he knows it's me. Hell, even _Grif_ knows it's me."

"_Oh sure_," Donut scoffed. "Everyone knows who you are but me."

"No," Simmons argued. "The Blues don't know either."

At that moment, Church came out the Blue Base and looked around. He then went up to where the tank was sulking. "Hey Sheila, where'd that Simmons guy go that was spying on us?"

"I don't know," Sheila retorted. "Why don't you go ask your new jeep?"

Church sighed and went off to look somewhere else.

Back at the Red Base, Sarge came out onto the roof behind Donut. "What's all this racket?"

"There's an enemy trying to get into the Base," Donut reported.

Sarge looked up. "Where?"

"Right there," Donut said, pointing at Simmons.

Sarge looked around. "Where, behind Simmons?"

"He means me, Sir," Simmons sighed.

Donut looked at Simmons, then at Sarge, then back at Simmons and realization finally hit home. "Ohhhh, _Simmons_. Why didn't you tell me it was you?"

"Donut, I _did_ tell you it was me," Simmons scowled.

"Well, you didn't _say_ it was you. You just kept saying 'I'm me.'"

"I _am_ me!"

"But you didn't say you were you. If you had said you were you instead of 'I'm me', I would have known that you were you. You just kept saying you were me."

"That's because I'M ME!" Simmons screamed.

"And thus ends another meeting of the pronoun club," Grif called out as he joined Sarge and Donut on the roof. "Same time next week, everybody."

"Well," Simmons sighed. "Now that we have that straightened out, I have some important information."

"I don't want to hear it, _Blue_," Sarge retorted, spitting out the last word like it was poisonous to taste.

"What?" Simmons cried. "This is valuable information about the war."

"There's no such thing as valuable information from a _traitor_!" Sarge snapped.

"But Sir, I only did that because no one would believe me about the tank."

"Sarge, Simmons has issues with his father that he displaces on you," Donut put in.

"No _Donut_, that's why I punched Sarge in the face," Simmons groaned. "I left the Base because I wasn't fulfilling my undying need to please other people."

"Alright, enough," Sarge yelled. "The next person who tells me about Simmons' feelings is getting court-martialed."

"Simmons likes to go in the bathroom and cry while he punches the mirror," Grif cut in. "Well, I'll go pack my bags." He turned to leave. "Nice working with you guys. Good luck with the Blues. It's been real."

Meanwhile, Church had given up looking for Simmons and was heading back to Base when he spotted two figures approaching from the canyon wall. He quickly raised his sniper to look and sighed in relief as he recognized them: it was Tucker and Caboose, the latter carrying Andy in his arms, returning from their quest.

"Oh look who's back, the conquering heroes," he called out as they approached. "What's up, guys?"

"Meh," Tucker muttered, clutching his stomach.

"Hey, where's Tex?"

"Gone."

"Where's the alien?"

"Dead."

"Well, how'd the quest go?"

"Failed."

"Yeah, you know," Church muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I probably didn't even have to ask that last question, did I?"

"Eh, I wouldn't say 'failed'," Andy argued. "But these guys definitely screwed it up royally."

"What?" Tucker cried out. "We didn't do anything!"

"_Exactly_," Andy retorted. "You let Tex do all the work and got the alien killed."

"Yeah, but doing nothing is what we do," Tucker argued. "So technically, we didn't screw anything up."

"It's true," Caboose sighed regrettably. "I have a first place ribbon in doing nothing. It's the same ribbon as last place. It's purple."

"Well, is Tex okay?" Church asked.

"She's fine," Tucker replied dismissively. "None of us are _that_ lucky. She chased after Wyoming."

"Tex?" Church gasped.

"Yeah."

"_Wyoming_?!"

"Yes."

"Massachusetts," Caboose added.

"Seriously, stop it," Tucker growled.

"Tucker, why didn't you tell me this?" Church yelled.

"Tell you when?" Tucker replied. "We just _got_ here."

"Yeah," Church scowled. "But you've been wasting my time gabbing about your stupid failed quest."

"Eh, I really wouldn't say 'failed' here," Andy started.

"Oh, this conversation's stupid, and I'm hungry," Tucker groaned. "Where's the food?"

Church let out an angry sigh. "Listen, any time you have new information for me, just tell it to me as quickly as possible, okay?"

"Well," Tucker yelled, heading towards the Base. "Here's one short, blanket statement that covers all future situations: We, suck!"

"I said _new_ information!" Church shouted.

Tucker waved it off with a slight moan. "Don't we have anything to eat in this place?"

* * *

**Did you guys notice the little clues I left in the last few chapters yet?**


	16. Under the Weather

**I should warn you, some parts in Episode 73 are gonna get pretty icky.**

* * *

Chapter 16: Under the Weather

Barely half an hour after his teammates returned, Church had listened as Caboose and Andy explained what had happened on the quest. Then suddenly they heard loud retching noises coming from down the passage and they quickly found Tucker lying in a pool of vomit on the floor of the cafeteria, clutching his stomach and moaning like a castrated sheep. Church led his teal teammate into the sleeping quarters to rest for a while, but ten minutes later they could still hear him groaning.

"Man, he sounds _terrible_," Church muttered worryingly.

"Yeah," Caboose agreed. "He's been like that since the swamp."

"Swamp?" Church asked. "You guys were in a swamp?"

"Yeah," Caboose replied nervously. "It was dark and swampy. I wasn't scared at all."

"Is this why you guys came home so fast?"

"No, we came home because the alien died and because the uh, glowing sword turned out to be uh, a glowing key."

"Yeah, a glowing key that can still _stab_ people."

"Right."

"So it _is_ a sword. It just happens to function like a key in very specific situations."

"Or, it's a key all the time and when you stick it in people, it unlocks their death."

Church let out a sigh. "God damn, Caboose, I would love to live in your world for about ten minutes."

"Yeah," Caboose murmured. "I have a really good time."

"Yeah, it seems like it," Church chuckled. "You know, I don't think I'd get anything done, but I probably wouldn't care that much."

Just then, Tucker let out another loud groan.

"Hey Tucker, you okay?" Church called out.

"Ohh, why don't you guys come in here?" Tucker wailed.

"Uh, because it might be contagious," Church shouted, "and, uh, because we've got to think about the health of the unit as a whole." He sighed in relief. "I came up with that pretty fast."

"And because you threw up ten minutes ago," Caboose added. "And that's just gross!"

Church suddenly had a thought. "Hey, wait a second; you don't think that sword-"

"You mean the key," Caboose corrected.

"No, I mean the sword. You don't suppose that sword is making him sick, do you?"

"I don't see how. It hasn't sneezed once."

"We don't know anything about it though. Maybe it runs on radiation and it's poisoning him."

"Or, maybe it runs on _solar power_."

Church frowned at this. "Wait, why would solar power make him sick?"

Caboose just shrugged. "Is he Republican?"

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Sarge had reentered the building and left Grif and Donut keeping an eye on Simmons so he wouldn't enter the Base.

"Okay listen, guys," Simmons called up. "Do you want important information about the war or don't you?"

"I don't know man," Grif replied, keeping his assault rifle trained on Simmons. "This is a pretty exclusive club we've got here. If we let _one_ Blue guy in, we might have to let the _next_ one in, and the next one, and then there goes the neighborhood."

"Yeah," Donut agreed. "Pretty soon, we'll have to let in _women_. And who wants them?"

"Yeah." Grif shivered at the thought. "Then we'd be talking about interior decorating and reality TV shows all day. No thanks."

Donut scowled at his teammate. "Grif, it kinda ruins my point when you just mention the good stuff."

Simmons glanced over his shoulder to look at the other side of the canyon. "I'm sure the Blues are using the information _right now_ to plot an attack against us."

At that moment, at Blue Base, Church flinched as he heard Tucker let out an almighty retching noise. "That better have been in your bucket!"

"I'll get the mop," Caboose sighed.

Back at Red Base, Grif shook his head. "Well, you can forget it," he yelled. "You heard Sarge, there's _no way_ we're letting you in the Base dressed like _that_."

Donut nodded in agreement. "Seriously, the blue and red thing is so last year."

"Well…" Simmons quickly ran round behind the rock and reemerged two seconds later wearing maroon armor once more. "How about this?"

Grif's jaw dropped inside his helmet. "How did you change so fast?"

"I've always been a fast changer," Simmons replied. "I'm very shy."

"Is that why you wear your underwear in the shower too?" Grif asked.

Simmons nodded. "I also never use the bathroom at the Base, only at home."

Grif grimaced in alarm. "Dude, we've been stationed here for like three years."

"Yeah," Simmons chortled. "It's gonna be a very eventful homecoming."

Back at Blue Base, having cleaned up Tucker's puke, Church and Caboose made their way back to the room where they had left Andy for a brief questioning.

"Andy, what in the hell happened to Tucker in this little adventure you guys took?" Church growled.

"How should I know?" Andy asked.

"He ate all my food and just threw it up," Caboose replied with annoyance. "He coulda just thrown it on the floor and cut out the middle man."

"Yeah, plus now he's moody as hell," Church agreed. "I went to ask him if he's feeling better and he practically bit my goddamn head off!"

"I bet he just would have thrown up your head later," Caboose said. "And then you could just put it right back on, it'd be fine."

"He was fine on the trip," Andy recalled. "Maybe he's allergic to _you_. I know _I_ get nauseous when I look at ya."

Church rubbed his chin in thought. "Did you guys come in contact with anything weird, like any strange plants or animals, or like super-flu viruses or porn stars?"

"Oh yeah, there's _one_ thing I forgot to mention," Andy replied. "We invaded a secret biological warfare lab, run by porn stars. Tucker licked all the Petri dishes even though we told him not to then he got thirsty, so he drank everything in the test tubes. You think that had anything to do with it?"

"I'm pretty sure that didn't actually happen," Caboose said slowly. "I would have remembered that part."

"Aw, come on!" Andy cried out. "You're surprised he's sick? I've never seen the guy wash his hands, not once! One time I saw him pick his nose at the pay phone."

"I'm just worried man," Church confessed. "Who knows if this stuff is contagious? For all we know, Caboose could be next. Wake up tomorrow morning, _he's_ throwing up and running a huge fever and next thing you know, he's bleeding out of his eyes because his internal organs are liquefying. And _I'm_ gonna be the one that has to hold his hand while he screams himself to death. That's not gonna be any fun."

Caboose gulped in horror. "I'm gonna go take a vitamin."

"Oh, don't bother," Church sighed. "It's too late for you anyway. We need to start thinking about _me_."

"Tell you what," Andy put in. "Send me in and I'll run clean-up. Don't worry about it; I'll take care of everything."

"Andy, I am not letting you blow up the Base," Church retorted, seeing where the bomb was going.

"Come on!" Andy urged. "Just a _little_ explosion, five, ten megatons tops. And all your scary germs will be gone. There'd be nothing left but the _cockroaches_, germ-free cockroaches!"

"But then Tucker will be dead too," Caboose reminded him.

"See? It's the perfect plan," Andy said.

"No, but that does give me a good idea," Church pondered aloud. "_Technically_, you can't get sick. So why don't we send you in there to take care of Tucker? Then you can figure out what's wrong and report back to us."

"I ain't no nurse," Andy snapped. "I go in there, all you're gonna get is an explosion. If you want a medical diagnosis, go see a doctor."

Church did a double take and stared at Andy. "What did you just say?"

"I said you don't need me," Andy repeated. "You need a doctor."

A grin slowly crossed Church's face and Caboose gulped in worry. "Please don't do it."

Sometime later, at an evil lair several miles away from Blood Gulch, the sinister O'Malley was plotting his next evil scheme. Shortly after he, his host Doc and the head of Lopez had barely escaped from the claws of the alien, they had discovered an abandoned tower in the mountains and had claimed that as their new base.

Now as O'Malley sat by a computer screen, a loud ringing from the long-distance radio-phone from down the passage interrupted his thoughts.

"**For the love of evil, someone get the phone!**" he bellowed.

"¿Por qué no lo llevarle tas usted?" Lopez retorted from a nearby windowsill. (Why don't you get it?)

"**You fool! Can't you see I'm busy with an evil plot?** **What do I pay you for?**"

"Para limpiar después de sus diagramas fallados." To clean up after all your failed plots.)

"**Oh shut up, you fool. ****You don't even have a body.**"

"Sí, debido de sus diagramas fallados." (Yes, because of one of your failed plots.)

"Why all this bickering?" Doc cried out from the reflection on the computer screen. "Can't we all just get along?"

"**And answer the damn phone!**" O'Malley yelled.

"¿Por qué tenemos tantos mils máquinas apocalíptica, para no tenemos máquina del contestar la teléfono?" Lopez asked. (Why do we have a million doomsday devices and no answering machine?)

O'Malley scowled at him as he stood up and went off to answer the phone. "**I find you far too sarcastic for just a head.**"

* * *

**Uh oh, our old enemies are back. I sense this is not going to end well for the Red and Blue Teams.**


	17. Right to Remain Silenced

**Episode 74 brings us a court case not unlike the ones on Judge Judy.**

* * *

Chapter 17: Right to Remain Silenced

At the Red Base, Sarge was in the flag room cleaning out his shotgun when he heard a commotion coming down the passageway. He looked up to see Grif escorting Simmons, in maroon armor once more, into the room.

"Sarge, finally," Simmons exclaimed with joy. "I need to tell you what the Blues are planning."

Sarge ignored Simmons and glared at Grif. "I thought I told you idiots not to let this traitorous scumbag in the Base!"

"Good to see you too, Sir," Simmons sighed.

"We didn't let him in the Base," Grif argued.

"HE'S STANDING RIGHT THERE!" Sarge bellowed.

Grif looked at Simmons then back at Sarge. "Well, obviously he penetrated the defensive protocol that me and Private Donut established."

"Defense protocol?" Simmons cried out. "You asked me what the password was!"

"And you knew it," Grif replied.

"_I guessed it_!" Simmons retorted. "By the way, the password was 'password'."

"It's so obvious, it's impossible to guess!" Grif explained.

"Diabolical," Sarge hissed.

Simmons shook his head at Grif. "A password should contain at least one number and one letter. For example, your password would be: 2dumb2live."

"Excellent burn," Sarge said.

"Thank you Sir."

"Traitor."

"Dammit!"

"Grif's stupidity aside," Sarge continued, "I'm not speaking with you until we punish your insubordination and treason."

"How about I just trade you the information that I learned from the Blues?"

"No! We have to have a trial, right here, right now."

"What? We don't even have a judge."

"Inaffirmative," Sarge argued. "In my civilian life, I worked as a judge for many years."

"What level?" Grif asked curiously. "Municipal? Federal?"

"Livestock, and occasionally agriculture," Sarge replied. "Now let's find out if Simmons is guilty of treason or best in breed."

"I don't recognize the authority of this court," Simmons muttered.

"No-one cares what a convicted criminal thinks," Sarge retorted.

"But aren't I innocent until you prove me guilty?"

"Nonsense! Why would we waste time having trials for innocent people? That would be a waste of resources."

"But I'm not guilty until you hold trial and convict me."

"So you admit it's a foregone conclusion!"

"No- wait I mean no- yes-no, that was right I think."

"Okay, this is officially more boring than any of the other times I've been to court," Grif sighed. "Permission to sigh and walk away, Sir?"

"Permission denied," Sarge replied. "If you leave, Simmons won't have anybody to defend him!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second," Simmons cut in. "I prefer to defend myself."

"I knew you'd say that," Sarge said. "And as the old saying goes, a person who chooses to defend himself has a fool for a lawyer. And that fool is Grif."

"Who's the prosecution?" Grif asked.

"Why _I_ am of course," Sarge replied.

"You're the judge _and_ the prosecutor?" Simmons spluttered. "That's a conflict of interest!"

"I object to that as speculative," Sarge stated. "And I also sustain my own objection."

"Uh, we'd like to enter a plea," Girf then interjected.

"What?" Simmons asked.

"Look," Grif replied. "It's only a matter of time before Donut finds out we're having this trial," Grif explained.

"I'm listening," Sarge said.

"Well," Grif continued, "if you're the judge and the DA, and I'm the defense, you know Donut's gonna wanna be the bailiff and that means he's gonna wanna wear the cop uniform with the short shorts."

"Ugh, Officer Hot-pants," Simmons muttered with a grimace and a shudder.

"Exactly," Grif agreed. "And I think we can all remember that dance routine from Sarge's birthday party."

_Very brief flashback_

_As Sarge waited in the cafeteria, Grif and Simmons made their way into the kitchen and discovered a rather large cake._

"_Oh my God, that cake is huge!" Simmons gasped. "It's big enough to fit a person in it."_

_Grif took a cautious sniff. "Why does the cake smell like baby oil?" Then he had an awful thought. "Oh God, where's Donut?!"_

_End flashback because I'm pretty sure you can guess the rest_

"Okay," Sarge sighed, shuddering at the memory. "We'll commute Simmons' sentence in favor of time served."

"With time off for good behavior," Grif added.

"No-one wants a messy trial."

"I also think he should pay a hefty fine, which we can split."

"Agreed."

"But I didn't do anything," Simmons reminded them.

"You just keep your mouth shut," Grif suggested. "And don't talk to the Press."

At that moment, Donut came in. "Hey, what's going on in here?"

"Nothing!" the others hastily replied.

Meanwhile, an old enemy was returning to Blood Gulch. On board the hover-scooter they'd built from memory, Doc/O'Malley flew out of the tunnel, down the cliff and came to a stop in the middle of the canyon.

"**Muahahahahaaa, now be careful,**" O'Malley warned his lackeys. "**Don't give away our position with maniacal laughing. We don't know what to expect from these fools. This could all be an elaborate trap! And we don't want to be caught off-guard.**"

"You _mean_ get caught in a trap before we have a chance to spring _our_ trap," Doc said from the reflection on the scooter's screen.

"**Precisely, you fool, now shut up,**" O'Malley snapped. "**At least we have a lookout.**" He turned to look towards the large boulder where he'd left Lopez earlier. "**Lopez, what do you see up there?**"

"Nada mucho, como siempre," Lopez called down. "Esta lugar respira." (Nothing much, just like always. Man, this place sucks.)

With a nod, O'Malley made his way further into the canyon. "**I haven't been here in some time,**" he muttered. "**Which one is the Blue Base?**"

"It's the blue one," Doc replied, pointing it out.

"**Oh yes,**" O'Malley sighed as he looked. "**They're really thinking outside the box with the design.**"

He drove a little closer until he reached a group of rocks twenty feet away from the Base then he dismounted. "**Hmm, it's quiet, t****oo quiet…**"

Suddenly, a shot rang out and O'Malley felt a sniper bullet whizz past his ear. "**Now suddenly it's too loud. ****I preferred it when it was quiet.**"

He turned round and spotted Church and Caboose standing on the roof of the Base, the former holding a smoking sniper rifle. "Alright, hold it right there!" Church called out.

"Yo a veo un hombre," Lopez called out. "Tiene un arma." (I see someone now. I think he has a gun.)

"**Yes, I see that**," O'Malley shouted impatiently. "**Thank you for keeping us informed, you moron!**"

"Yeah, that was just a warning shot, O'Malley," Church yelled. "You make any funny moves, the next one's gonna go right in the middle of your visor!"

"You think you can make that shot from here?" Caboose asked quietly.

"Uh, probably not," Church whispered. "I was actually trying to hit him that time. I swear to God I think somebody fucks with the sights on this thing when I'm not looking."

"**I knew it!**" O'Malley cried out. "**This was just some elaborate scheme to lure us into an ambush!**"

"First of all, I don't know if calling you on the phone and inviting you over qualifies as an elaborate scheme," Church shouted back. "And secondly, _we're not ambushing you_; we just wanna lay down some ground rules for your visit."

"**I'm not very big on rules, you know,**" O'Malley replied.

"It's true," Doc called out from the reflected surface of the scooter. "We had this system back at the evil lair where we each clean on different days, but I always end up doing it!"

"**Oh shut up!**" O'Malley snapped.

"And he always leaves the milk out!"

"**You fool, be quiet!**"

"And don't even get me started on the phone bill."

"Hey Doc," Church called out with a smile. "I see you're still swimmin' around in that head somewhere too."

"Well, it's not the ideal situation," Doc admitted. "But any relationship requires work if you-"

"**You fool, this isn't a relationship,**" O'Malley interrupted. "**I'm just using your body to fulfill my evil plans. When we're done, I'm going to throw your rotting carcass into a swamp and let the beasts feed on your entrails! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!**"

"I love you too, buddy."

"**Oh shut up!**"

"Well, don't get any bright ideas about jumping into anyone else today," Church warned the evil AI. "We've all got our radios off, and we've all got our minds cleared. We're not thinking about anything. For some of us, that was easier than others," he added with a glance at his blue teammate.

Caboose nodded. "I just finished thinking about something and didn't start thinking about anything else."

"So, here's how this is gonna work," Church explained. "You're gonna come in, you're gonna take a look at Tucker, you're gonna tell us what's wrong and then you're gonna leave."

"**Hmmm,**" O'Malley pondered the offer. "**And what do _we_ get?**"

"Whaddaya want?" Church asked. "And I should warn you, Tex is not here. So if you have any cute ideas for her, don't bother."

"Well, a standard physical usually requires a $20 co-play," Doc thought aloud. "Hey, ask him what kind of health insurance they have."

"**You fool, let me negotiate,**" O'Malley hissed then he shouted, "**We want something from you, but we're not going to tell you what it is, until we need it! Huahahahaha!**"

"No way!" Church yelled. "I'm not agreeing to something without knowing what it is!"

"**Oh-ho-ho-ho, yes you will,**" O'Malley purred wickedly. "**You will or your little friend Tucker will die, die a most _horrible_ death. And you know his blood will be on your hands. Years from now, you'll drive yourself mad, wondering if there was anything you could have done to save him. So you _will_ agree to what I want. You will agree even though what I want is something mysterious. What I want is something **_**frightening**_**. What I want is something **_**pure EVIL!**_** MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA! …I'm also being told that a $20 co-pay is pretty much standard.**"

"Alright, fine," Church sighed, patting his armor down.

"**Hahaha, you fool, and we want the twenty dollars upfront.**"

"Fine!"

"**And in cash…**"

"Oh, whatever!"

"**Ah, you moron, i****f you'd used a credit card, you could have gotten airline miles, or at least a thirty day grace period with no interest, you fiscally irresponsible fool!**"

Church rolled his eyes then he turned to his teammate. "Caboose, give me twenty dollars. No wait, give me thirty dollars."

* * *

**Wow, who knew doctors were so expensive?**


	18. Things are Looking Down

**I'm now three-quarters of the way through the Blood Gulch series!**

* * *

Chapter 18: Things are Looking Down

In the canyon, the Reds were on the move. Mere minutes after Simmons gave his information, Sarge immediately issued the command to hightail it out of the Base and through Blood Gulch.

"Come on, double time, men!" Sarge bellowed as Donut jogged on ahead, Simmons ran alongside and Grif lagged behind as usual. "That goes double for you, Grif!"

"Why are we always… double timing… anyway?" Grif panted. "Can't we ever… half-time or… how 'bout… _no_ time?"

"No, numbnuts," Sarge yelled. "According to Simmons, the Blues have already re-established contact with their Command."

"What?" Grif yelled as he skidded to a halt. "_That's_ why we're running?"

"Of course," Sarge replied as he and Simmons also stopped. "By now, they could be receiving reinforcements or taking advantage of some new technological weapons development."

"Or maybe _their_ Command has been giving them the same generic orders ours always gives us, like 'Try to win' and 'Do better than you're currently doing'. I swear, sometimes I think they don't even know our names."

"That's just what I wanted you to hear," Sarge retorted. "The conversations _I_ had with Command always provided vital information."

"Like what?"

"Like the location of the Blue Base."

"Right there." Grif pointed across the canyon.

"And the number of soldiers they have."

"Three." Grif held up three fingers.

"Also the location of the Base."

"Uh, you already said that one."

"I meant _our_ Base."

"Weren't we the ones that provided them the intel in the first place?" Simmons asked, scratching the top of his helmet in confusion.

"Initially, yes," Sarge agreed. "But Command processes our raw data and gives us back the key details. You may recall they sent us plans of the next phase of the war. They were stored in Lopez before he was kidnapped."

"You mean before he ran away," Grif corrected.

"No, I mean _shut up, Grif_!" Sarge snapped.

"But how do we even know he still has the plans?" Simmons asked. "Last time we saw him, all that was left was a head. Maybe he stored the files in his legs or his chest."

"You idiot, who stores memories in their chest?" Sarge yelled. "Don't you know anything about biology? The chest is strictly reserved for digestion."

"Maybe they'll send us more reinforcements like last time," Grif said hopefully. "Donut's arrival was a real turning point in the offensive."

Sarge then noticed the lack of their pink teammate. "Where _is_ Donut?"

"There he is," Simmons cried out, pointing to where the pink private was standing by a large boulder. "It looks like he's talking to something."

Sarge took a look too. "It looks like a rock. Grif!"

"What?" Grif asked with no urgency.

"I need information on that rock, ASAP!" Sarge commanded. "Approach the target via flanking maneuver and establish defilade at that ledge, Point Alpha!"

"Or," Grif put in, "I could just look through the scope of the sniper rifle since that's worked the last _eight hundred times_."

"Yeah, alright, fine," Sarge muttered. "Take all the fun out of it. I like my way better, it was more dangerous for you."

As Sarge continued grumbling, Grif took out the sniper rifle and peered through the scope to where Donut was standing. He saw that the pink private was talking to something that looked very much like a rock but as he zoomed in for a closer look, he saw that the rock was in fact a brown helmet with a long crack on its visor.

"Sarge, I have great news," he beamed, lowering the rifle. "It looks like you're gonna get your plans after all, and I'm not gonna have to do any more running. So everybody wins."

"What about me?" Simmons asked. "I didn't win anything."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Grif replied dismissively. "I'm sure there'll be _somebody's_ ass you can kiss."

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Church had paid Doc/O'Malley the co-pay and was now giving the possessed medic a guided tour of the Base before taking him to see Tucker, finishing off at the room where they had left Andy.

"Andy, this is Doc," Church introduced the medic. "Doc, this is Andy. Uh, Andy, Doc is here to help Tucker. And he's also our worst enemy, you know, besides the Reds… and Tex, on certain days."

"**Well, thank you for introducing me to your bowling ball,**" O'Malley said curtly. "**Hello, bowling ball.**"

"Actually, I'm a bomb," Andy corrected.

O'Malley raised a borrowed eyebrow. "**It can talk?**"

"Why is that the first thing everybody says to me?" Andy asked puzzled.

"**A talking bomb, you say…**" O'Malley rubbed his chin in thought. "**Hmmm, I could use a fellow like you in my organization.**"

"Yeah," Church butted in. "I should probably point out that Andy here was specifically designed to blow up and kill you."

"**I see,**" O'Malley muttered. "**Well, this is certainly awkward.**"

"KABOOOMM!" Andy suddenly yelled out.

"**Ahhh, Satan's bunion!**" O'Malley yelped, ducking on the ground and covering his head with his arms.

Andy then burst out laughing. "I was just kidding, I didn't really explode. Hahahahaha."

"Heh, good one," Church chuckled.

"**Yes, highly amusing,**" O'Malley scowled as he got to his feet.

Back in the canyon, Sarge, Simmons and Grif made their way to where Donut was and were amazed to discover what the pink private had found.

"Lopez!" Sarge cried out. "Donut, where did you find him?"

"Right here," Donut replied.

"How were you two talking?" Simmons asked. "Lopez, do you speak English now?"

"No," Lopez replied. (No.)

"Well, if he doesn't, then why did he just say no in English?" Grif pointed out. "Ha, busted."

"I took four years of high school Spanish," Donut replied to Simmons' question. "That's the best way to learn any language."

"What've you two been talking about?" Sarge asked.

"Oh, the usual Spanish faire," Donut replied. "I told him my name, I asked him what his name was, I asked if he knew where the bathroom was, how much a ticket for the train costs, and I asked him for the check."

"Haga por favor que el hombre rosado para el hablando con mí," Lopez groaned. (Please make the pink one stop talking to me.)

"Ask him where he's been," Sarge demanded. "No, ask him where he's going- wait, ask him if he has our secret plans, and if he missed me."

Donut nodded and turned to the robot head. "¿Lopez, que es el tiempo? Voy a ir a la playa con mi primo quiere jugar a tenis. Yo comido un lápiz. Adios." (Lopez, do you know what time it is? I am going to the beach with my cousin who likes to play tennis. I ate a pencil. Goodbye.)

Lopez stared at him in silence so Donut turned to Sarge. "Hmmm, it looks like he's not talking, Sarge."

"Alright, he wants to play tough, eh?" Sarge growled. "I built in override codes for just such an event." He turned to face the head of his creation. "Lopez! Give me root access, priority Delta One!"

"Prioridad el permito," Lopez replied. "Por favor dicté el access code." (Priority Access requested. Please state the Access Code.)

Sarge nodded. "The Access Code is… Access Code."

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me," Simmons groaned, slapping a hand to his visor.

"Ah, bitch about it later," Sarge retorted.

"Acceso a código," Lopez stated. (Access Code accepted.)

"Lopez, replay the intel message from Command," Sarge ordered.

"OK," Lopez replied. (OK.)

"See, OK," Grif said. "Now I'm telling you, this guy's faking."

At once, Lopez let out a click and then a new voice issued from the robot. "Hola, hola. ¿Eses tú escuchar mí? Hola. Hola hombres de Gulch Sangrosa, gracias por la información, muy provechosa." (Hello, hello. Can you hear me? Hello. Hey Blood Gulch dudes, thanks for the information, very helpful.)

"Oh come on," Grif groaned. "The _recording_ is in Spanish? That doesn't even make any sense!"

"Después de analizar los datos que usted proporcionó," the voice continued, "nosotros han calculado un plan a toda prueba para ganar la guerra." (After analyzing the data you provided, we have calculated a fool-proof plan for winning the war.)

"This guy sounds just like the guy the Blues were talking to, Vic Junior," Simmons recalled. "I'll bet his kids changed sides."

"Eggs Benedict Arnold, those dirty traitors," Sarge scowled. "No offense, Simmons."

"None taken."

"Traitor."

"God dammit!"

"Wait, how does Vic have kids?" Donut cried out. "I thought he had a vasectomy."

Everyone else stared at him and even the recording paused for a moment.

"Well, that's just what I heard," Donut finished.

Vic's recording continued, "Aquí están sus órdenes: elimine a la enemigo. Okay hombres, Buena suerte." (Here are your orders: eliminate the enemy. Good luck.)

"We've got to figure out what he's saying," Sarge said. "Donut, can you translate or can't you?"

"Uh, I think he's saying something about losing his passport," Donut replied with a shrug.

"También, hacer mejor que usted ya hado haciendo y ganar por favor," the recording finished. "Okay, hombre, au revoir." (Also, try to do better and please win. See ya.)

"Well," Simmons put in. "When I was in Blue Base, Church mentioned they built a translation device out of an old bomb."

"E-gads, no doubt to decipher their plans to _destroy_ us!" Sarge cried out. "If we don't translate the tactical plans Lopez is saying, we're all doomed! That information could save our very lives!"

"Why don't we sneak into Blue Base, grab the translation device, and use it on our message?" Simmons suggested.

"I agree," Sarge replied.

"Let me get this straight," Grif muttered, going over Simmons' plan in his head. "We're going to steal a bomb from our enemies – a bomb that can be remotely detonated, I might add – and then we're gonna bring it back to _our_ Base and all huddle around it. What a great plan."

"Well sure, it sounds stupid when you say it like _that_," Simmons retorted.

"Come on, let's move," Sarge commanded. "Somebody grab Lopez's cabesa."

"Of course," Donut replied and quickly obeyed.

"That's not the cabesa, Donut," Sarge sighed. "And that's not Lopez!"

* * *

**I'm just going to assume he just picked up a rock there and quickly move on.**


	19. Two for One

**With this episode, I am now two episodes away from finishing this part.**

* * *

Chapter 19: Two for One

At the Blue Base, Church, Caboose and Andy waited outside, listening to the sounds coming from in the Base.

"Oh God, I think it's coming back up," Tucker groaned before letting out an almighty retching noise.

Then Doc poked his head out of the main door, an electronic medical pad in one hand. "Okay, everybody," he called out. "I'm gonna give Tucker his physical now. Would either of you like to assist?"

"**That's just a fancy way of saying 'Hold the vomit bucket',**" O'Malley snickered from the pad's reflection.

Church backed further away from the door. "Uh, sorry, I'm busy."

"Caboose?" Doc asked.

"I can't," the blue soldier replied.

"Well, why not?"

"Oh, because uh, I am… allergic to things that I don't want to do." Caboose then turned away and started coughing.

"Okay, just more fun for me," Doc chuckled.

Some distance away, from the cover of some boulders, Sarge watched through the sniper scope as Doc ducked back into the Base. "Well, you won't believe this," he reported to his privates. "It looks like the Blues have teamed up with O'Malley, those dirty backstabbers!"

"Our enemies teamed up with our enemy," Grif muttered. "How is that a backstab?"

"Exactly! No-good two-timers," Sarge scowled. "Alright men, let's get in there and acquire that exploding translator thing so we can figure out what Lopez is saying."

"No mas va estar decepcionado," Lopez warned. (You're just going to be disappointed.)

"I agree, Lopez," Sarge replied. "Time is of the essence."

"¿Por qué estás contestando si usted no sabe qué estoy diciendo?" Lopez sighed. (Why do you bother replying if you don't know what I'm saying?)

"Good one, amigo," Sarge chuckled.

Lopez closed his eyes with a groan. "Dios mío, por favor alguien mata me." (Oh God, someone please kill me.)

Sarge glanced round through the scope until he spotted Andy. "I see the bomb," he informed his team. "He's right next to Caboose."

"Which one is Caboose again? I get confused," Grif cut in. "Is he the stupid _mean_ one, the stupid _annoying_ one, or the stupid stupid one?"

"_Stupid_ stupid," Simmons replied.

"Oh yeah, right," Grif murmured. "What an idiot."

"Yeah totally," Simmons agreed pointedly.

"Sarge, I hate to point out the obvious," Donut chipped in, "but since we can see them with the sniper rifle, why don't we just shoot 'em?"

"Shame on you, Donut!" Sarge scolded. "A sniper rifle is a coward's weapon. When you kill yer enemy, you wanna look in his eyes so he knows _you're the one who beat him to death_! It also gives you the chance to deliver some really zippy one-liners, like 'I hope you brought your wallet, because the rent in Hell gets paid in advance!'"

"Oh my God," Grif groaned, slapping a hand to his visor.

"Or my personal favorite, 'You've just got Sarged.'" Sarge chuckled at his own wit. "Heh heh heh, classic."

"Lo significo, deseo morir," Lopez whinged. (I mean it, I want to die.)

"Hand to hand combat is the old school way to kill your foes," Sarge continued. "It hearkens back to the honored traditions when combatants respected one another. Killing a man with your bare hands says we're all equals as men, except I'm slightly more equal because I'm still alive and you're dead. Of course, dropping a nuke on them from fifty thousand feet is _also_ totally acceptable. I mean let's face it, there's just not enough time in this busy world to show everybody the courtesy of a good strangling."

"See? That right there is why society is going downhill," Grif cried out. "Everyone's in such a hurry these days-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get the point, wasting time," Simmons interrupted. "Okay, what's the plan, Sarge?"

"You fellas stay here," Sarge commanded, grabbing the remains of his robot. "I'm gonna head up there with Lopez and get that device." As he set off, he chuckled again. "Get it, Lopez? _Head_ up there… Score two for Sarge, _ding ding_."

"Dios mío," Lopez moaned.

Down at the Blue Base, Doc came out the main door, still carrying the medical pad, and met up with Church, Caboose and Andy. "Hey guys, I figured out what's wrong."

"What is it, Doc?" Church asked concerned.

"You're not gonna like the diagnosis," Doc warned.

"**Which is ironic, because I think it's absolutely delightful,**" O'Malley snickered from the pad's reflection.

"Just tell us, Doc," Church replied. "We can take it."

Doc drew in a breath. "Your friend is-"

"Dying? Oh no!" Caboose cried out.

"No, he's not dying, he just has-"

"No chance to live, I knew it!"

Church slapped his teammate on the back of his helmet. "Caboose, one more interruption outta you and he's gonna have two patients!"

"How do I say this?" Doc muttered, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. "Your friend is…"

"Why are you pausing?" Church asked. "Caboose is not gonna interrupt you this time."

"No, that was just for dramatic effect," Doc said. "He's pregnant."

"Oh good," Caboose sighed in relief then he gasped. "Wait, what?"

"**Hehehehe, preggers,**" O'Malley laughed.

Church was silent for a moment then he glowered at Doc. "Alright, are we paying for this service? Because if we are, I want a refund and if we're not, I want a refund anyway."

"No it's true," Doc assured. "We found two heartbeats, so unless he has two hearts, the only logical explanation is that he's pregnant… I think."

"_How is that a logical explanation?!_" Church then turned on Caboose and Andy. "Alright, one of the two of you has some explaining to do!"

"Hey, don't look at me," Andy retorted. "Tucker's not my type."

"Pshaw, me neither," Caboose added. "And uh, maybe we should um have the doctor explain, uh just how… babies are made, y'know uh in case someone in the group, uhh may not exactly know how… that happens."

"Oh my God," Church groaned. "Caboose, shut up. Andy, blow up. Doc, you're fired, get outta here. I'm gonna go shoot Tucker."

But O'Malley then took Doc over and held Church back. "**No; you said we had to tell you what was wrong. You didn't say we had to be right, _or_ that we had to fix him, you fool! Hahahaaa, read the fine print, classic blunder!**"

Then Doc regained control. "First of all, I _am_ right. And we _are_ going to help him."

"What?" Church gasped.

"**What?**" O'Malley cried out.

"Look, no-one's ever seen anything like this before," Doc explained. "I don't know anything about what caused this or how to help him, but with heart and true determination, we can get him through this!"

"Yeah, we don't want heart and determination, Doc," Church snapped. "What we want is a degree, from an accredited medical institution."

"Yeah, or four years equivalent work experience," Andy added.

Doc let out a sigh. "Come see for yourself."

"Fine," Church muttered.

But Caboose stood back. "Uh, I think I need to stay here and guard…" He glanced around for a bit before his eyes fell upon a large boulder. "This rock, from Tucker, because I'm pretty sure that's how all this started."

"Alright, what's wrong?" Church asked worryingly. "You seem nervous."

"What if Tucker is contagious?" Caboose whimpered. "I do not want to catch pregnancy!"

"Hey, no-one is pregnant," Church yelled then he sighed. "And seriously, Caboose, when I get done with this, we gotta have a little talk. There's a book I've got that we can read together."

Caboose nodded earnestly. "I'd like that."

"**Maybe you can have the bowling ball fill you in on some of the basics,**" O'Malley added with a chuckle. "**Let me get you started: there are three holes, hahahahaaaaa!**"

"Oh gross!" Doc grimaced.

"**I meant in the bowling ball.**"

As Church followed Doc/O'Malley into the Base, Caboose kept an eye on the boulder, unaware of Sarge and Lopez sneaking up on them from the other direction.

"Hey Caboose, level with me, pal," Andy called up. "I don't really look like a _bowling_ ball, do I?"

"No, Andy, you're not really _that_ fat," Caboose replied, still looking at the boulder.

"Because I've been working out, you know," Andy continued. "Dumbbells, pushups, crunches-"

But then, Sarge swooped in and snatched the bomb away, leaving Lopez in his place. "Yoink!"

"Andy?" Caboose turned round and stared in amazement. "Andy, what happened to you?"

"Rapido, antes de les que se vuelvan," Lopez shouted. "Cave un agujero y entiérreme, por favor." (Quick, before they come back. Dig a hole and bury me, please.)

Caboose let out a gasp. "Andy, you turned into a real boy!"

Meanwhile, Sarge ran back to his team and placed Andy on the ground. "See boys? Now that's how you run a successful op; in and out like well-lubricated lightning."

"Where's Lopez?" Simmons asked.

"I pulled the old switcharoo," Sarge explained with a chuckle. "Lopez was the same size and shape as this feller, so I just swapped him out, just like Indiana Jones woulda done." He knelt down and patted Andy very gently. "They'll never even know he was missing. Thank God he's a little lighter than the last time we saw him."

"_Finally_, somebody noticed," Andy yelled out gratefully. "Do you know how hard it is to maintain this figure?"

Grif stared at Andy then at Sarge. "You swapped Lopez… for the bomb. Permission to speak insultingly, Sir?"

"Permission denied," Sarge retorted. "You're just jealous because you didn't think of it first." He then rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Now let's translate. Where's Lopez?" He glanced around before suddenly remembering. "Ah hell, I'll be right back."

He ran out again, looking for something to switch Lopez with then he spotted the old skull lying nearby so he picked it up and made his way back to Caboose.

"Now you see, Andy," he heard the Blue tell Lopez as he approached. "Now we can go fishing and you don't have to be the bait anymore, and we can go hiking, and we can go camping and you don't have to be the fire anymore, and we can go riding together, and now we can hold hands, and we can fly kites, and we can play tag, and we can drink orange juice together."

"Hey, Caboose!" Sarge called out from behind the boulder. "You hear something behind you!"

"I do?" Caboose muttered as he looked round behind him. "I wonder what's causing it."

And while Caboose was distracted, Sarge dived in, grabbed Lopez and left the skull in his place. "Double yoink!"

"Andy?" Caboose looked round and stared in horror. "Oh, _my GOD!_ Andy! You're dead!"

He fell to his knees and pulled the skull close to him. "How did this happen?" he sobbed. "You were so young! It's all my fault; I should have seen the warning signs! I didn't even know you were smoking! It worked so fast!"

He hugged the skull to his chest. "You had so much to do, so much exploding to do! Oh God, who will blow stuff up now!? I don't want to live in a world without explosions!"

He then lowered his head and burst into tears. "My God, why? Oh, Andy…"

* * *

**It's official now, Caboose's stupidity has reached the peak.**


	20. The Arrival

**We have now reached the not quite as explosive, but still just as intense finale of Part 4.**

* * *

Chapter 20: The Arrival

In the medical ward of the Blue Base, Church stood over the gurney where Tucker was lying, the teal Spartan's stomach slightly more bloated than before, and Doc quickly went over his diagnosis once more.

"I don't believe this," Church sighed.

"It's true, your friend Tucker is pregnant." Doc then took out his medical scanner. "See, my little gizmo lights up green to indicate pregnancy."

"I thought it lights up green to indicate flesh wounds," Church recalled.

"Yeah, also that."

"And infectious diseases."

"Yeah, it lights up green for just about everything," Doc agreed. "It takes a while to figure out the difference." He then held up the device and did a scan of Church. "Like, this green indicates a high level of anger stemming from repressed feelings of inadequacy."

"If that thing keeps talking bad about me, I'm gonna fucking smash it," Church scowled.

Doc then lowered the device to scan Church's crotch. "And this green means impotency." He looked again. "Oops, actually that green _causes_ impotency. My bad, Church."

"Oh, that's okay," Church muttered. "I wasn't using it anyway."

"See, these tools can be confusing sometimes," Doc continued, placing the scanner back on his belt. "That's why doctors have to go to school for so long, not that I'm actually a doctor, mind you."

"And that has never been more apparent than with this diagnosis," Church agreed.

"Urgh, what diagnosis?" Tucker groaned, sitting up on the gurney.

"Congratulations, Tucker," Doc cheered. "You're pregnant."

"**Huahahaha, yes, with child,**" O'Malley chortled from the reflection on the pad.

"It's not mine," Tucker yelped. "I wasn't even in town that weekend."

"Tucker, don't listen to him," Church warned. "He's a lunatic man, he's got no idea what he's talkin' about."

Doc sighed as he reached for the scanner again. "You want me to go over the green light thing again?"

Just then, Caboose came running into the ward, clutching something to his chest. "Doctor, help! My second best friend is dead! Fix him."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Caboose," Church interrupted. "What happened, who's dead?"

"Andy," Caboose sniffed. "Andy's dead, look." He held out his hands to show an old bleached skull.

"Okay, that's disgusting," Church grimaced.

"Doctor Doc, please help him," Caboose pleaded.

"Uh, I don't know what I can really do to help him," Doc admitted. "My first aid procedures aren't very effective _after_ decomposition."

Church took the skull out of Caboose's hands and examined it. "Where did you get this?"

"First Tucker dies and now Andy!" Caboose sobbed.

"Tucker isn't dead, he's pregnant," Doc reassured.

"It's not mine," Tucker insisted. "We weren't even going steady!"

"Stop that," Church snapped.

"Hey, look man, I've been saying that for a long time," Tucker argued. "It's gonna take a little while to get used to this."

"You're _not pregnant_," Church yelled.

Caboose then spoke up. "I was just standing outside the Base and someone told me to turn around and when I did, Andy-"

"Whoa, wait," Church cut in. "Who told you to turn around?"

"_I don't know!_" Caboose wailed. "But they were very helpful."

"And let me guess, when you turned _back_ around, Andy was gone."

"Yes," Caboose whimpered, grabbing the skull again. "He was… gone."

Church sighed and grabbed his assault rifle. "Everybody stay here, I'll be right back."

"Wait," Doc called out. "What do you want me to do about the pregnant guy?"

"It's not mine!" Tucker yelled.

"He is _not pregnant_," Church shouted.

"And what about Andy?" Caboose added.

"And that's not Andy!" Church yelled, running out of the ward. "Look, just stay here."

But seconds after Church left, Tucker suddenly let out his loudest groan of pain yet. "ARRRRRGGH, would this be a bad time to mention that my stomach just started hurting really bad?"

"Oh boy," Doc gulped. "Caboose, better go boil some water."

"How can you think of soup at a time like this?" Caboose snapped.

Outside, behind the boulders, Sarge came back with Lopez and requested the robot to replay his message from Command, allowing Andy to listen and translate.

After hearing the message a few times, Andy gave his translation. "Here are your orders for winning the war: Eliminate the enemy. Okay, also, try to do better than you are currently doing. And please win, thank you."

The Reds were silent for a moment then Grif spoke up. "That's totally, totally lame, and not at all surprising which is also totally, totally lame."

"I don't know 'bout that, Grif," Simmons argued thoughtfully. "I think there was actually some valuable tactical information in there, right Sarge?"

"Simmons, have you lost your last marble?" Sarge bellowed. "That was pure nonsense!"

"Oh, that's what I meant," Simmons corrected sheepishly.

"Eliminate the enemy, what kinda plan is that?" Sarge cried. "I think Command has lost it."

"_Lost_ it?" Grif spluttered. "When did they _have_ it?"

Donut meanwhile was looking out at the Blue Base. "Uh, speaking of the enemy, here comes one now!"

Grif looked round to see Church approaching. "Hey, let's eliminate him! Then we'll have one less thing in the to-do list!"

"Oh, I'm just so depressed," Sarge sighed, slumping down on one of the smaller rocks. "I can't even threaten your life for being a total jackass… Jackass, I'll kill ya."

"Nah, I don't think eliminating him is gonna be easy," Donut muttered. "It looks like he's bringing his tank with him."

Simmons went next to Donut to have a look. "What're you talking about, Donut? The tank isn't coming out here. Look, it's not even moving."

"Yes it is," Donut insisted as he pointed. "_Look_."

Grif went over to Sarge and sat down next to him. "Hey Sarge, cheer up. I've known Command was stupid all along. It can be hard at first but you'll get used to it."

"Just leave me alone," Sarge sobbed, tears streaking his grizzled face.

"Donut, I _am_ looking," Simmons retorted. "If it was getting closer, it would be getting bigger."

"It _is_ getting bigger, compared to that tree!" Donut argued.

"What tree, there aren't any trees out here!"

"You wanna call me an idiot Sarge?" Grif egged on, placing an arm round his leader's shoulders. "That always makes you feel better."

"Oh, shut up, moron," Sarge scowled, pushing Grif's arm away.

"Heh, feels better, right?" Grif chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess a little," Sarge admitted.

"Nope, not moving," Simmons decided.

"Yes it is!" Donut shouted. "See, look closer!"

Seconds later, there was a loud booming roar and suddenly one of the boulders behind them disintegrated in a huge explosion.

"Okay, you're right," Simmons gulped. "It's coming this way."

"_RUUUN!_" Donut screamed.

Sarge and Grif leapt to their feet and gasped as they saw Sheila drawing closer.

"Oh no!" Grif yelped.

"Run, men!" Sarge bellowed.

And run they did! They tore across the canyon like cheetahs on a treadmill, yelping and cursing as Sheila fired round after round at them, until they reached a large boulder on the side of the canyon and ran behind it.

"Regroup men!" Sarge yelled. "Grif, start passing out additional ammo."

"Uhhhhh," Grif muttered.

Sarge then turned to his pet private. "Simmons, pass out the ammo you brought because you knew Grif would forget."

"Already on it, Sir." Simmons passed some pistol rounds to Donut then handed Sarge some shotgun shells and tossed a sniper clip over to Grif before loading another clip into his assault rifle.

"Return fire, men! I'll call for reinforcements." Sarge then switched on the radio in his helmet. "Come in, Command, come in!"

"Hey dude, come in," Vic Jr.'s voice called out as Sheila opened fire again. "Hey, what's going on? That's sounds like fun."

"Vic, we need help," Sarge yelled. "Simmons, get busy negotiating a surrender."

"Okay," Simmons nodded. "How 'bout we give them our base?"

"Oh, good idea!" Donut agreed. "We could live in the _caves_!"

"We could let them kill Grif!" Simmons added.

"Simmons, you're supposed to negotiate _their_ surrender, not ours!" Sarge yelled. "Vic, are you still there?"

With great fear, Simmons, Grif and Donut poked their heads over their boulder to see Church and Sheila waiting for them.

"Hey, Blues- Uh, I mean, Blue," Simmons yelled. "We're only gonna give you one chance to surrender!"

Church looked baffled. "Wha- Why would I-" But then Sheila fired at the Reds again. "Hey, hold on a second, Sheila," he hissed. "Why would I surrender?"

The Red privates whispered among each other before Simmons yelled out, "Uh, because you're outnumbered!"

"Bullshit, dude!" Church shouted. "I got a tank! People with tanks are never outnumbered!"

The Reds whispered some more then Simmons called out, "We also think that it's _your_ turn to surrender!"

"WHAT?!" Church yelled.

"Well, if you recall, first _you_ surrendered and then you gave us Doc," Simmons replied. "And then _we_ surrendered, and we gave you the jeep. Now that means-"

"Sheila, shut him up," Church ordered.

With a nod of her turret, Sheila fired again, hitting the wall behind Simmons and sending stone fragments flying.

"Son of a bitch!" Simmons yelped as he and Grif ducked down.

"Is that a no?" Donut called out meekly.

"Okay look guys," Church shouted. "I don't mean to be rude, but I've got a missing girlfriend, a guy who's pregnant, an idiot who thinks his pet just died, _and_ our worst enemy is hanging out unsupervised at our Base right now. So I really, really, _really_, don't have time for this horseshit right now!"

The Reds stared at each other for a second then Grif called out, "Uh, what was that part about the pregnant guy?"

"He's _not pregnant!_" Church yelled. "That's impossible."

"Yeah, unless the alien impregnated him," Andy agreed. "That's what they do; they infect the host with a parasitic embryo. Uh, but you already know that, right?"

"What? NO!" Church screamed. "Why didn't you tell us that could happen?!"

"Uhh, I mean uh, _alien baby?_ Uh, _that's shocking_," Andy muttered. "I am shocked!"

Just then, Caboose's voice called out on Church's radio. "Come in, Church, come in."

"Caboose, what did I tell you man?" Church yelled as he answered the radio. "You're not supposed to use the radio while O'Malley's here! Oh, great, now I'm on the radio too."

"Oh, uh that's what I'm calling to tell you," Caboose murmured nervously. "Um, the Reds already used their radio and uh, O'Malley is gone."

"Oh my God," Church gasped.

"That's right, Blue! We've called in the cavalry!" Sarge called out. "As we speak, the glorious Red Command is sending a ship to aid us! No doubt it's a battle cruiser of the highest magnitude! It's time to end this thing once and for all!"

Suddenly from the radio, Church could hear Tucker let out loud painful groans and taking breaths in between then Doc shouted, "Congratulations, it's a… thing, ugh."

"Honk, honk, blarg, blarg!"

Church's jaw dropped. "What… was that?"

"Oh well, that's the other thing I called about," Caboose murmured. "Um, Tucker had his gross baby."

"It's not mine!" Tucker's strained voice called out.

"He is _not PREGNANT!_" Church screamed, his patience gone. "Sheila, stay here. If anybody moves, shoot them."

As Church ran back to his Base, Donut peeked out from behind the boulder. "A baby?" he called out, dashing out from cover. "Wait up, I wanna see!"

"Donut, get back here!" Sarge bellowed. "Wait for the ship!"

Donut stopped in the middle of the canyon and whirled round. "But Sarge, we don't know when the ship is gonna get here," he called out. "It's coming all the way from Earth. That could take days, or weeks, or months, or even years!"

Suddenly a huge Pelican-class ship dropped out of the sky and crashed in the middle of the canyon, right on top of Donut.

Simmons looked out as a cloud of dust flew up. "Ship's here."

"Shotgun!" Grif added.

* * *

**Well, that was unexpected. So… yeah, Part 4 has ended on a cliffhanger too. But as I mentioned earlier, I will first get the Out of Mind five-part series out of the way then I will continue with Part Five. Thanks to the readers who helped me out on some of the chapters and to the others who've been with me so far.**


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